Reaching The Hermatige Poem by James McLain

Brown twin peaks through her valley I walk,
waiting I waite for the moon to rise.
The red rose is high it is certain
to raise her white flag my silk curtain.
Glory is he, today through the valley I walk.
These words that I write, they make me.
Mans reign of crime is over.
Her breasts full of milk covered me.
Through each hungry child you have found me.
I master the chaos of the world you embodied.
Being milked by hand I call out her name.
When you love him you her to do love.
Being unlike the rest far abovementioned.
From this valley I walk through her curtains.