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Image for the poem Across The Stream

Across The Stream

Masutā's rowed across the little stream,    
Where we await his pleasure amongst trees;    
I hold the parasoru in this dream;      
My friend's in pink: fresh blossom could so please;      
Our lanterns will be red tonight, I think;      
At least I'm not aware he wants to use      
Another geisha, since we're on the brink      
Of giving cherī hōru;      
Every bruise,      
His bamboo cane produces, should soon earn      
Us our masutā's yen to buy new gowns,      
For him to strip when he needs flesh to burn;      
Let kyo's inkei sink, without sharp frowns      
Of impatience occurring, though trees screen      
The cherries, he desires, across the stream.  
Written by SweetOblivion
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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