Saturday, 8 February 2014

Blossoms in the Dust

Now, love doesn’t care whether about our colour, creed, sex or sexuality .so why should anyone?

This poem is for lovers across the world who find themselves caught up in a tangle of outdated, misguided stereotypes wielding this or that socio-cultural-religious sledgehammer doing its best to grind them to dust…


You’ll come naked to my dreams
and breathe life into me,
repair my body at its fraying seams,
fill me with ecstasy

You’ll croon a love song in my ear,
play on the same guitar
I bought you for Christmas the year
we first kissed each other

You’ll make love to me, our passion
a bitter-sweet hymn to Creation
for I must wake too soon, too soon,
at time’s cruel persuasion

Yet, parting, as Apollo says we must,
we shall stay as blossoms in the dust

Copyright R. N. Taber 1982; 2010

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