Serpentine Poem by Andrew David Dalby

Serpentine



I sense her as she gently slips between the sheets;
While I slide along those sacred lines of near sleep,
To then rest within twilight's gossamer tainted dream.
And here I smile, for in her arms, I am so self-defined,
Free from the curses of blind, foolish and cruel guides;
Who hide within the corners of my closing muddled mind.
In silent places, she comes and goes in slow staged days;
To beg a whisper from a plump heart so dear and aged.
And while we walk in secret scented high landscapes,
Made of honey milk and red blossom, counter-changed
Where I beg a gentle touch, or the merest taste of grape,
And laugh heavily at this our so secret place out of time,
Here, along the honoured banks of the golden serpentine.

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Andrew David Dalby

Andrew David Dalby

Brighton East Sussex United kingdom
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