It Is Sweet Golden Mist Poem by James McLain
It Is Sweet Golden Mist
it is sweet golden mist, you wander in from the night.
it is the width and depth, as dreaming I sleep in your bed.
it is to great the urge of each wave as it stops my breath.
From my fingers drip the honeyed waters of time.
Your fingers and palm they dampen my forehead.
Kissing your fingers the flame burns my eyes.
Opened a finger as air opens one eyelid of thine.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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4/23/2024 3:06:19 PM # 1.0.0.1119
