As we did the other morning and many mornings
Nodding our heads, despairing over work but
Finding time to intersect at a crossroad
Your hand in mine, the other holding
The line so they do not get
Entangled with our
Legs, watch
The
Sunrise
Looming above
Our heads, in separate
Beds, necks aching fomenting
Commenting on fairy tales woven in
Rhymes, add more lime, you're so sublime
Falling asleep as we drift closer, like two lost drones
Sometimes, we need to explain what we meant and not mislead the reader that we do not care at all that he is appreciating how we soar above his head. We do care, even if we have poetic license. I am delighted to be seen when flying but ecstatic when a kindred spirit joins me in my flight. :)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Middle English, to apply a warm substance to, from Late Latin fomentare, from Latin fomentum compress, from fovēre to heat, soothe; akin to Lithuanian degti to burn, Sanskrit dahati it burns. This word suddenly pops up in the middle of my musing about how poetry comes up in the middle of a conversation. I think the burning hands typing or the fingers texting have the same effect as applying heat to stir up some kind of a reaction - thus, fomenting. I do not give a word to confound or obtruct - but rather to target or close in to the most accurate emotion. :)