Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
how of, U wen 've been wine amongst such dower trees as Spring: a perched upon a string of suddenly cool night has alighted with weft of surging flower a stumbling drunkness of **** infinite self (a parting of easy fragrance ) soft at the hinges and wet between the peels of rough human knees: (some hand; some soft At play at hurtfully entering eager pain .) t h e sound o f fingers; the sound of love.
0
Aug 18, 2014
Aug 18, 2014 at 1:21 AM UTC
Untitled
how of, U wen 've been wine amongst such dower trees as Spring: a perched upon a string of suddenly cool night has alighted with weft of surging flower a stumbling drunkness of **** infinite self (a parting of easy fragrance ) soft at the hinges and wet between the peels of rough human knees: (some hand; some soft At play at hurtfully entering eager pain .) t h e sound o f fingers; the sound of love.
patrick-wakefield-1
Written by
Aug 18, 2014
Aug 18, 2014 at 1:21 AM UTC
Request permission to use this poem