The Poet

The Poet

Monday, May 25, 2015

... And It Was Good by Ron Porter ©2015

she poured me a cup
of golden sun and,
said to me “come drink”
as the wind caressed her curls
like lover’s fingers running through

Her laughing eyes and summer smile
ran like fiery little foxes
through the grassy fields around
and the sound of her voice  soothed me
like waves that wash a sandy shore

we spoke of dreams in the making
and the architecture of desire
while upon the surface of the blue lake abutting
white sails of boats that rode the waves
floated by like clouds on wounded wings

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