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WondererPoems
I know - now - the winters of your soul how long, how cold how your dog still barks plaintively      for your return Yet still you kept a pitcher at the gate to slake the thirst of travellers  Your nightwatchman still tends his flame The hearth lit The table decked        for my return And now at last     - the all but very last -   I have the measure of your pedestal imprisoned there on high any move would break you But serendipity has granted me the key I know the craft, I have the tools, I will not rest until I have you. Come gentle soul, come fiery soul, come soul of alabaster and of platinum     It’s time.           Let’s sit. You have this table so very richly laid in welcome
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Mar 12, 2024
Mar 12, 2024 at 5:22 AM UTC
Alabaster soul
I know - now - the winters of your soul how long, how cold how your dog still barks plaintively      for your return Yet still you kept a pitcher at the gate to slake the thirst of travellers  Your nightwatchman still tends his flame The hearth lit The table decked        for my return And now at last     - the all but very last -   I have the measure of your pedestal imprisoned there on high any move would break you But serendipity has granted me the key I know the craft, I have the tools, I will not rest until I have you. Come gentle soul, come fiery soul, come soul of alabaster and of platinum     It’s time.           Let’s sit. You have this table so very richly laid in welcome
Written by
Wonderer
54/F/Bristol UK
Mar 12, 2024
Mar 12, 2024 at 5:22 AM UTC
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