Saturday, March 8, 2014

Sir Word and I





I will allow you to take me
Over the moorland terrain
Winter has woken a wanting
Somewhere twixt pleasure and pain

Don’t fence me in with strict edict
Don’t bind me close with a rule
Pull me beyond inhibition,
Midnight wields no harsh schedule

Let your deliverance render
Splendor, wild, word-loose and free
I want the best of your measure
Falling into poetry

Succor my mouth with your whisper
Dredge dauntless deeps with your might
Darling, how swift your soft letters
Kiss and keen thought’s appetite

Dance with me while others slumber
We’ve grown familiar with time
Yet moments are too quick to number
Better we shape them in rhyme

Let’s lie beneath the black cover
Flung from a star-spangled dome
Darling, before this night is over
Let’s make a beautiful poem

© Janet Martin

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