Poetry Afternoon
I understand the problem
I dream of the love a god
to burn out the non divine
that which is frail and petty about me
Instead I find the love of a mortal
One just as flawed as I
I write so many poems inside my head
As I stroke your hair
your silken skin
In our never nuptial bed
odes to your wisdom and your beauty bright
to lips which curve like a ribbon strewn
across bright rafters
Lashed windows
letting in morning sunlight
the well worn path my kisses have followed
never tiring of the warm taste of you
I kneel and pray
like a pilgrim at a site most hallowed
Angels and gods have no meaning to be
sacrilegious blasphemer that I am
Who has time to worship that which can not be seen
When I have my idol to worship in front of me?
I dream of the love a god
to burn out the non divine
that which is frail and petty about me
Instead I find the love of a mortal
One just as flawed as I
I write so many poems inside my head
As I stroke your hair
your silken skin
In our never nuptial bed
odes to your wisdom and your beauty bright
to lips which curve like a ribbon strewn
across bright rafters
Lashed windows
letting in morning sunlight
the well worn path my kisses have followed
never tiring of the warm taste of you
I kneel and pray
like a pilgrim at a site most hallowed
Angels and gods have no meaning to be
sacrilegious blasphemer that I am
Who has time to worship that which can not be seen
When I have my idol to worship in front of me?