poets’ challenge of love

 
 
 
 
the challenge of love, ah clever poets sing
bells of the ages like weddings’ ring-bearers
tending to the tender souls who challenge love.
 
first there is awe and laughter
first there is oh so sweet petals of
eternal Spring
first there is me boyo, me flicka, me enameradae
first there is passion unmet in this measure before.
 
I love like a mountain gale
sweeping goats and ghosts and moonshine
into camaraderie; array, like daffodils
sun-shine through miraculous fields
meeting you here where no two have quite met
like this, to kiss, to touch, to taste, entwine blissful
like none have done in all of the days of wo/man.
seas of rapture sway and spray and rock us
into unsung epic destiny.
Yet love unwinds,
unmakes us,
ruins us for life.
 
And life descends so empty
on the drying seeds of
now spent love.
.
.
.

 

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