Anthony Dalby Poems

The tip
of your tongue
is hidden sweetness
in dark places
...

My hand on your bare thigh
against the hard stone wall
pierced
hot sand slides under the sole of your feet
...

Sitting here, feeling the rain slide down my hair
Lunch apples lumped in my hand
Two pints of milk clinging to my clawed fingers
Now sheltering in the office fridge until coffee time
...

I will not dream another's sweet musings
when the truth is only partly known
the fruit is so sweet but of another knowledge
...

This longing
is as fine as porcelain
irridescent in the morning light.
...

On the shore with you
rivulets lap the sand
bestir times before.
Birds wheel
...

I know you are there
every day
reading these lines
and I love you for that
...

sweet emerald jewel
hover next to my love's ear
and slide your probiscus down to her recesses
not to take her honey
...

Comforting snow sifts as flour at your tolling
soft feather down on iron clamped shut
sunlight touches the crystals
language drips from the icicles of your friends
...

Shrouded in this green carapace
Of parchment leaves
Drenched with the soaking of summer rains
Countless rivulets soaking into the crevices of the earth
...