My Song To The Worlds Ends Amen Poem by Mark Heathcote

My Tragedienne;
If you saw me in the morning
If you felt my pulse breathing
Reawakening all you’ve dreamed
Would sleep not guide your hand?
Love not - runaway with the sand?

My tragedienne;
If I were your royal blue peacock
And you were my peafowl hen.
Dressed in a loose; flowing smock.
I’d not lie in wait for the marksmen
Nor go strolling amid the common-

Bluebells camouflage
But sing in your heart
My song to the worlds ends amen.
My tragedienne; for love, once, again.
Would desire not guide your hand?
Love not - runaway with the sands?