(Dedicated to the unknown gardener)
Furtherance, that your thighs amid mine,
it is my command, my desire that you are here.
Let me hear your dulcet tones to soothe mine ear
and your image to appease mine eye.
The day stretches before me as an ocean before a ship,
on its maiden voyage to the final destination.
My arms and thoughts in purgatory, until we are
braided strands of hemp, risen to the universe.
In a state of repose am I, yet make haste,
firm in the knowledge that I am yours.
My love, my love, my love.
Sparrow
Compass Correlation Advance to the quarterdeck, the colors are in the wind. The captain is in command. His vessel is launched into the bay, the journey is at hand with rhythmic waves lapping the bow. The clear sky and brisk winds whisper slow within the ship’s gentle roll. The bow cuts into the flow of voyage somewhere between ecstasy and anguish. The storm moves in with force; the cargo is battened down in steerage as passion’s attachment for destination reached. A poet friend © RH Peat 11/10/2013
John, Thank you. The crux of it with this Unknown Gardener is always Love
Dear Mr Green, thank, you for reading a poem in my Saga of poems Dedicated to, the Unknown Gardener.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Great write I like the line My arms and thoughts are in purgatory, until we are braided strands of hemp. There seems to be an underlying tension created by the suspence as to whether or not the lover will in fact return.
New tools! Yes Mr Farrell you are starting to hear the thread delicately entwined within.