The lush folds of land
arose in heavy sweaty lines
As the fawning trees nakedly
thrust their brittle fingers
Up towards the steel grey sky;
I feel them seek fresh damp soil beneath.
as She rests her head upon my shoulder;
and curls her oval eyes upward
towards mine.
A welcome smile rests upon her blushed lips
As we pass the man of staves.
He leaves with me an impression
of a vast giant opening a door....
I feel her whispered sigh,
its stirs the weight of stars,
as the warm wheels of Iron
Roll upon heavy lines of steel.
its grinding echo rises
to meet mine.
Polegate...
and then the wheels roll on...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem