Friday, December 6, 2013


You are there waiting, dangling on a gate
Vexing ineptness and testing my will
Oh, how I want you but you wait until
Passion and pleasure and pain culminate

Oft I have felt you, presence without form
Just as the wind whispers in the wild beech
You tease the air where my thought cannot reach
Rousing within me a smoldering storm

You are a counselor, you are a gasp
You are a lion restrained in a cage
You are a tear on an empty page
Translucent vision evading my grasp

Far from my touch how you torture my breast
Vague compositions of gossamer gray
Oh, I have held you as you slipped away
Come to me now so at last I may rest

Somewhere out there where the dark and the light
Vie for the sky you remain, bittersweet
Wafting until thought and fingertips meet
You are The Poem I’m waiting to write

© Janet Martin

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