28 Apr

The silken soft grass was my bridal bed

The rising mound a pillow for my head

The night sky a bejewelled canopy

When Nature made love to me.

His amorous breath was a fragrant breeze

Whispering through the rustling leaves

Passionate conquest, all barriers torn

My mind fertile, a poem was sown

I nurtured it , deep inside me

Till it clammered aloud to be set free

The birth took long , I bore the pain

But the babe was dead, all my labour in vain!

Yet to blame my lover, there was no cause

Nor was I less ardent in my response

But somewhere in me imperfection lay

With time repaired, perhaps it may.

Leave a comment

Posted by on April 28, 2011 in Poetry


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

%d bloggers like this: