The Satyr Poem by Sally Plumb Plumb

The Satyr

Rating: 5.0


The old goat sleeps
with piccalo,
hunts in dream
some lover near,
snorts in woodland
undergrowth,
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 OF THE POEM
Nivedita Bagchi SPC UK 31 July 2010

Age robs many things if mind is not green lol… thanks for sharing…WJR Regards Ms. Nivedita UK 10/10

0 0 Reply
Sally Plumb Plumb 01 June 2019

Thanks for remarks Niv. Sally

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Steven S 05 October 2009

I have to wonder about this man of yours.. and of course you too.

0 0 Reply
Sally Plumb Plumb 01 June 2019

Very complicated. Best regards Sally.

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Sally Plumb Plumb

Sally Plumb Plumb

Haverhill Suffolk England
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