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