Priest Poem by Leslie Philibert
Priest
The entrance to paradise
Is the soul in a small boy
Two ruddy apples, cheeky chappie
Your pulse in a starved eye
Fingers against cotton and elastic
A swamp sanctified with
Wood and blood, this the call
For a fingered miracle; the
perfume of wet perfection, rub-a-dub
And so you tell yourself;
To save you must love,
A smile brittle with chalk,
A breath full of hot wine.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Delivering Poems Around The World
Poems are the property of their respective owners. All information has been reproduced here for educational and informational purposes to benefit site visitors, and is provided at no charge...
4/23/2024 9:38:56 AM # 1.0.0.1119
