Basking On A Summer Morning

15 Mar


As the suffrages of winter
breed oft failed contempt
for longings of freedom,
so too, with lustful pangs
of innocence to be defiled,
comes sudden burst of heat,
when I am then thrust into
the wake of summer sun,
which envelopes my body
like a shroud of laughter
in the brilliance of silence;
this is the foregone tryst
of inevitable interment,
my foray into morning,
when I, as that of a child,
rich in tactile wantonness,
‘ere touch wildly, unashamed,
every rose and blade of grass,
to sate hidden curiosities,
not yet known or understood;
then, with need for respite,
I come to a sequestered place,
and ply myself, o’ so gently,
‘neath the shade of a willow,
where I now lay my head
against its warm, brittle bark,
and look out o’er the hillside,
‘ere sparrows flutter about,
and watch illusionary tide,
the drying mist of morning,
which rises now with the heat,
and begets a warm, sultry haze,
‘ere a cooling breeze now wafts,
gently kissing my neck in kind.

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Posted by on March 15, 2016 in My Poetry



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