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Sunday, June 21, 2009

In Volatile Verse

we stroll hand in hand,
you in one place, I the other,
in a dream land where
senses do not fade;
beneath the greenest lindens
on the promenade,

you smell so fine
on such summer nights, our
eyes close to such a sweet air,
the wind brings higher sound,
it carries your scents
to a town we near,

we name it love
and enter, trepidation follows,
you point to a star framed sky,
our own little patch of dark blue,
undulating in a faint quivering
at the sight of you,

my heart goes wild,
our voices talk alluringly
as the moon passes by,
eyes open wide, finding you
too sweet to resist as
bodies do the talking now,

you drink me in, my
sap is champagne, it goes
to your head, how the mind
wanders feeling for a kiss
on your lips, of a volatile verse
so heartbreakingly serious,

soft flesh as peach,
a point more steep
whose damp only hardens further
those parts of a building
that stands condemned by time,
but still yielding,

here and now, here and now!
we're here for the feeding,
for the sowing,
to give this town its harvest
come the summer's end
and September is at its best,

yet no gift should be random,
your eyes tell me this
as we both start to dress,
and I finally understand the trade,
when the autumn comes for us
and the pact we've made,

this night is ours for a time,
it outlives us all,
this town, this land,
where the moon loves the fertile
and longing only comes
in fashions of quicksand,

our own patch of sky
will still be there, the stars
will not die when we
shut our eyes, though at least
we'll have had this
volatile verse to feast,

hand in hand we'll have walked
down this lover's lane,
in a dream land where
passions never fade;
but where once the greenest lindens
looked down on the promenade.

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