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Dec 2012
.
Red,
Rua, roselet,
Hair of vine and scarlet
Grapes, drown me in your drink
Of lips, of wine, ruby, flesh of passion
Fruit and horn of plenty,
Earthen rust of pebbled clay
Draw me in as the water seeping
Into ancient aquifers, laden, hidden
Under the vastness of Sahara
Sands. I am a cloud of dream
Drifting, itching, edging along your rounded
Hills. Your ******* burn as I steam,
Your ears are for nesting doves
And your eyes, the sky is waiting, warring
With ocean, for its colour,
The wandering sun is a stranger
As it falls, ending each day, faded
As the gaseous giant of faint Antares,
Eclipsed by your heavenly
Form, your Vulcan flame
Of light.
Seán Mac Falls
Written by
Seán Mac Falls  Éire
(Éire)   
  857
   --- and Vijayalakshmi Harish
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