Treasure Island

Robert Leary

(New London, Connecticut)

The Road To Erato


I

Oh willow like a bird so fair
Your hair abloom ignites the air
Oh oak so solid stately strong
With only pathos for your song

And yet below the ground
Their fingers meet
Their arteries are one heartbeat
Their breathing but a single sound

II

Redeem the tide that draws us all
Our quest for touch is not so small…
Yet as pebbles on a beach
Our eyes are strung
On strings our hearts can barely reach…

Naked prawns upon a bed
Each searching for a meaning…
In Passion’s lonely head
Fear’s screaming
“Love is dead! ”

III

Now love is lust in the wind
To the branch of a tree it give in
A neck in a noose
The horse is a friend
'Till slap of hand it seduce

Now maybe you say
'Life is short
Why not a toss in the hay'
But battles not fought
Are dreams for another day…

Submitted: Monday, November 30, 2009
Edited: Wednesday, August 10, 2011

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