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There was a man of pilgrim's might Whose feet would hound with real respite His head hung low, but thoughts gave flight To smiles he flashed out through the night And on he came to seeped well And burned with petal thirsting smell He cupped his hand to pool to tell Of washed brows in walking hell And then he saw a girl with hair Of yellowest sunlight's bounty share And told his heart its meal is there The meadow grasseed blew nowhere She cooled his brow with gentle hand She ushered back the gourd's demand And though the dirt gave way to land No borders had her goodness banned He woke beneath the willow tree In cradle of arms' ecstasy And she joined him to join the free With daffodils afore their glee Yet still they walk, but tell me this, What is the road, but wartime bliss? What is the sea without the hiss Of beauty's scent and midnight's kiss?
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Apr 9, 2015
Apr 9, 2015 at 4:39 PM UTC
Starving Thirst
There was a man of pilgrim's might Whose feet would hound with real respite His head hung low, but thoughts gave flight To smiles he flashed out through the night And on he came to seeped well And burned with petal thirsting smell He cupped his hand to pool to tell Of washed brows in walking hell And then he saw a girl with hair Of yellowest sunlight's bounty share And told his heart its meal is there The meadow grasseed blew nowhere She cooled his brow with gentle hand She ushered back the gourd's demand And though the dirt gave way to land No borders had her goodness banned He woke beneath the willow tree In cradle of arms' ecstasy And she joined him to join the free With daffodils afore their glee Yet still they walk, but tell me this, What is the road, but wartime bliss? What is the sea without the hiss Of beauty's scent and midnight's kiss?
A thought on the journey and pure bliss in each other.
Porto-graffiti
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Apr 9, 2015
Apr 9, 2015 at 4:39 PM UTC
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