@3love: the power of lust turned generous, the power of sleep to enter dream: who has not wanted to climb on a warm day up again toward those sunny hills: remember, how the whispers sweep us like grass fires: there's always memory telling our fortune, with a purpose beyond the telling: to pearl the grainy black day with color where all things long to persist in their being, as in the beginning: violet cumuli gilded with lightning, creating space for us as we advance: to think something never before possible, pristine stone, menhirs, telluric shocks, daylight earth: o visibility, white as warm quartz: I sleep and sleep and my father rows out at night, who taught me, not in pleasure alone but with a kind of fear to touch another's body: tangible and liquescent, true, untying the scarf from my eyes: what it's like in the void, fierce, defiant, sad saraband: not with fear alone but in a blind of pleasure to touch a prescient body:@1 | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE SONG OF HIAWATHA: HIAWATHA'S FASTING by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW UNDERWOODS: BOOK 1: 5. THE HOUSE BEAUTIFUL by ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON WHITE MOMENTS by KATHARINE LEE BATES LIBERTINE by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN ON A CELEBRATED RULING ELDER by ROBERT BURNS CHILDE HAROLD'S PILGRIMAGE: CANTO 2 by GEORGE GORDON BYRON POSTHUMOUS TALES: TALE 7. THE SCHOOL-FELLOW by GEORGE CRABBE |