Caress These Withered Vines Poem by Diana Newsome

Oh beauty
so rare
come hither

come hither in ripened simplicity
outline, if you will
the gravity of love...

as twilight beckons dawn
caress these withered vines ~
impeding light

let not stillness hasten
nor limbs remain hallow
imbue your sweetest fragrance

quiver between these stark and acrid loins
quiver you must,
till shadows fall away in freight

Oh beauty
so rare
come come, do dare

sweep o're
this threadbare frame
lie between my soil and grass 'en mane.


Copyright @ 11/01/2005