- Non-Erotic Poetry
- he moves me
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he moved the mountains that once
placed themselves in
such solid statue
between his heart and mine.
brought the rains to tumble
softly as a willow to a branch
just so i may dance,
by the hope of a rainbow,
as he painted a skye
with evergreens and eternities.
just two hands
to a mortal man
and yet with each
worn callus,
he is building our dreams.
he is the branch of me,
as we stem from
one tree,
and the silent stream
that continually flows
fluent and just.
he is the rush
of my flesh,
and the whispered calm
the rage of a storm,
and the completeness of my palm.
he is compassion and passion
as a sunset in crest
he is a lifetime of prayers
and with each stolen breath,
...he still moves me...
- COMMENTS
LeBrozalmost 16 years agoThis poem was selected from Lit's archive of over 40,000 poems for inclusion in today's Archival Review.<br>
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DuPainabout 16 years agoIf you ever cease your romantic ranting you’ll break my heart “Peaches.”
Your words are the breath of my flesh; the drop of rain that keeps this soul from withering, the light of these aging eyes that still allows a vision of hope!
William
Bill Dadaover 18 years agoThe strength of your writing really conveys the strength of your subject.
ty,bd
My Erotic Taleover 18 years agodont worry sweet it is the negative among the positive that cant find any good in anything...tattlers just childish and unhappy in life and brings them joy to down others...grammar police are back...keep writeing...the rest of us like your work
Anonymousover 18 years agoVery casually written. Some good images and metaphors but carelessly presented.
Tattler
