Sunday, 6 March 2016

The Cost Of Longing

The Cost Of Longing

Settling dusk of your skin
Beset eyes smiling, twinklin’
Evening colours on those lips
Your mop of sun kissed hay

Apparitions onward tease me
Like a mirage on a hot noon
Down the beds of rivers
Chasing your scent of May

Their banks offer a respite
In shades of wooded green
Silence here cuts through
And o'sudden floods my cay

I stare beyond, haunted still
The old longing for your hand
Stays, swells - a freedom lost -
Strikes to break my day

If such I play all tomorrow
Maddening it may well be
Yet, then when I’ll have you
I believe, discontent I shall lay

-x-x-x-

© Parched For Rain

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