Eyes Of Sage Poem by jodde taylor

Your eyes,
how they twist my thoughts
herbal potions;
rumbling fourth.

Turning my head,
there you walk;
a faint step
towards my fatal haunt.

Spices fill the air,
every moment another despair;
so far from where we began
my treading heart, is a wounded sin.

Go make a broth, a potion
which brings to life,
all my emotions;
tear a piece of cloth
to bandage well, my heartache lost.

Never shall the angels rest,
while, such a life, lives in unendless rest;
you filled the water, way high
so high, my senses overflowed.

Now, I make use, of the drips and drabs,
the small drops which fall from the past;
take them away, both ache and hollow,
words which came and now are swallowed.

This path, I walked with you,
past the sage, the oak, the honey dew
you gave all this to me,
now I am left, with a haunting presence.

An empty shadow,
left to hold you, in sights of stars
waiting for the avalanche to break;
does it ever end, the feeling of paradise,
once a place, where all lovers conquer then die;
peace may come, with the chime of bells.

To my end I wish thee well! ....