deepundergroundpoetry.com

Breathe deep the humid air

The air,humid sweet          
hawthorn blossom,          
bitter-sweet of May          
beside the waiting elders          
drowsing bluebells          
limp and silent          
in the early breeze.          
It was only eight          
my love lay sleeping          
midst chaotic sheets          
humid air,bitter-sweet          
rivalling the blossoms          
reminding me of her.          
I lingered by the bluebells          
saw Eglantine's first bloom          
virgin flowers open to the sun          
as I thought of the rose      
that lay sleeping,petals closed  
(humid air and bittersweet)          
for me to wake . . . . . .          
It was only eight no need of rush,          
time to leave the pigeons          
cooing in the early breeze,          
breathe again humid air,           
bittersweet and curtains closed.
Written by Kexby (john rickell)
Published
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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