Apr
2008
2008
27
When It Happened…
| Hot: |  |  | | | |
Shattered
I hate this ache
you have released,
This ravening beast
that was my heart,
Once tame and quiet.
I called the shots,
then you appeared
To touch my soul,
and opened with one kiss
The locks and chains of careful years.
The frightful power
of lust enflamed,
Freed by your touch, a moment’s rush
of whispered magic words;
All my crafty layers
placed precisely here and here
To cover each small leak
of passion or desire
Have crumbled into dust–
Your eyes have shattered
my reserve, drawn out
The wailing monster from
its hidden cave.
It will not be tempered,
It will not be tamed,
it must have its way.
And I, the staggering victim
of this passion’s play,
Can only fall before your feet and gladly say,
I will, I will, I will.
Thanks!
You don’t write poetry like a Granny! Hot, hot, hot!
Jan