Open Gardens Of Love Poem by James McLain

Not to long after the sun has partly risen.
Open gardens of love blanket the clouds.
Reincarnated we often came before long after.
Death only wants us happy.
Only after your hands new age of grace is love.
Every song you sang let it be.
When ever I walk through the ring of fire.
The garden only if some prefer.
Only then did you come alone to the hill.
Our foot prints there time we forgot.
Alone on the beach from the mound.
Venus built I saw looking down the lone valley.
The valley of the butterfly in it you sat a river.
Sucking noises soft whimpers and quite cries.
Come from the gulls others from, Whippoorwills.

Sylvia Plath a leafless dress dangerous brown eyes.
Her bruised avocado open eyelids days of fire.
And sunny again curled lofts of green hay.
Special as a child off not to far a thunderstorm.
From the depths of the sea air from the sea smells different.
Open the moon reflects off the leaves on the bushes.
Deep inside ruffled silk infused kiss by kiss, being strong.
It helps too be pretty and lovely green babies by her other.
And in each hand are ten angels and they are swearing.