Sally Plumb Plumb

Silver Star - 3,522 Points (23 9 1940 / Haverhill Suffolk England)

The Satyr - Poem by Sally Plumb Plumb

The old goat sleeps
with piccalo,
hunts in dream
some lover near,
snorts in woodland
the hills and plateaus
of his fears.

A cloven hoof?
Lifes ageing man.
Unnurtered truth,
a sexual dam.

Rivers run deep
when my man sleeps.

Sally Plumb

Comments about The Satyr by Sally Plumb Plumb

  • (7/31/2010 12:21:00 PM)

    Age robs many things if mind is not green lol… thanks for sharing…WJR
    Ms. Nivedita
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  • (10/5/2009 7:53:00 AM)

    I have to wonder about this man of yours.. and of course you too. (Report) Reply

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Poem Submitted: Saturday, March 14, 2009

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