- Non-Erotic Poetry
- The Lover
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Click hereA kiss upon her lips; Divine!
To taste the breath of turpentine,
To trace her face of porcelain,
The milky cool of frozen skin
I ache for; Here, a lullaby
To save you from your heavy sigh,
And take you to an endless dream,
My Woe! You suffer, so I deem
Another sip to bring your sleep
Too deep, so deep that I can keep
Your body an eternal shrine,
And infinitely mine.
- COMMENTS
UnderYourSpellabout 13 years agoI keep stumbling on line 9 and wanting to read it as 'bring you sleep' ... good read though
buttersabout 13 years agoneatly constructed and avoiding the clichés too often prevalent with this rhyme-scheme. you offer some original imagery, making us think beyond the lines - fill in our own background to the scenario in front of us. overall quite clever, but my one mental 'tic' happens when i read:
My Woe!
ok, it's meaning isn't out of place... but somehow i picture this scene in a more modern setting than that phrase admits and, as i said, it's the one place my brain does an odd little twitch.
