Rising Sap Poem by David Lacey
Rising Sap
Our infatuations enflame with the coming of the morn
Through the rising of the sap we herald the princess and her horn
Adrift upon wings of so strong emotion that we could bear
Upon them every creature that ever graced the ocean.
Impish natures, angel features
Each are moulded true to perfection.
One instance. One masterpiece.
Born of the Goddess’ hand?
Born of the blood that tamed this land?
The children play at standing still
Then dancing around their mothers hill
They await the time to kill.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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5/14/2024 2:25:46 AM # 1.0.0.1119
The title is perfect David and the poem has a wonderfully almost grown up fairytale quality to it. Just perfect to quench the hunger of poets and poetry lovers alike. A big 10 from rising steadily! grinning Tai