The wavering, windy winglets of the wisteria
Loosely hang amidst the walled interior
Savouring delightful treats with
The accompanying sound of quavers that sumptuously give
Greeting to good octaves guided by the gift
Of a practitioner in his art bountiful, explicit
Who kids himself with grit and determination otherwise dismissed
Jostling the senses into gilded giddiness
Bridging our hearts into wholesomeness
Dizzy dowsing us with worldliness
Drawing us away from the indecisiveness
Unsightly distress of everyday manifest
Ciphered and cuffed by why’s and buts inciting less
Enticing of the conscience into a residing mess
Encountered when striding to the rhythm of a tiresome strut
Confident to us manifest in the form of conjured lust
To aid all conceivable things into being
With the pure and cleanly seal of this revealing
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
nicely penned poem, Matt thanks for sharing Blessings