deepundergroundpoetry.com

Golden Tresses

Here beside the shrouded lake  
golden tresses about my neck  
arms, swan-like deep embrace  
safe within the veil I breath  
mystic scents dream on mossy  
pillows  listening to the trout,  
see rippling circles in the water  
swans and kingfisher, breakfast,  
dredging mud and chasing fish.  
My love is still, golden tresses  
smother me allowing me to rest  
to take them in my hands  
find them soft, plaited, green,  
held and drawing close,  
jealous lest the goldfinch  
with more grace to seduce  
steals from me as is his right.  
I can only borrow, this not mine.  
We did not speak, yet understood;  
I am of another world, free,  
free to wander and to leave,  
leave behind this dream,  
a dream of Eden, promises fulfilled  
as to the road I must return  
to leave, leave behind  
golden tresses turning green.
Written by Kexby (john rickell)
Published | Edited 23rd Nov 2016
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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