Sunday, 19 May 2013

Unrequited.


I am in love with
Ancient words
Still have the power to curl
Around my tongue, and sleep in my mind
Enjoying such harmonious slumber.
I caress the page upon which they are written
And joy.

I am in love with
the rose's petals 
embrace the bud
Unfurling slowly time over
To reveal the snowy centre.
I inhale the sweet scent, 
The dewy delight at its
heart.

I am in love with a brush of skin,
and their perfectly crafted arrangements
Of features 
So perfect the must have been carved
By some kind of divinity.
Iridescent eyes revealing
Iridescent are so 
Intoxicating to me.

I am in love with 
the fall of summer rain
And the slow burning death autumn 
And the misted twilight of winter.
The colours, the sublime, are entwined
amongst the day
In which life lives.

I am caught breathless by beauty 
In all things, 
And all people,
And this love scents of my tears,
And secretes of my smiles.

And I think that perhaps,
I am in love with beautiful things
Because I have none on my own
To savour 
Or to keep.