The lovers-root is a white-flower

By Mark Heathcote

Tue, 22 Feb 2011
  • 655 reads
2 comments
 

The month; does but shiver into joy,
With the tears of a snow-drop,
Little-bells, buoyant, green and cloy,
Ringing; beyond the hilltop.

The lovers-root is a white-flower
On Valentine’s Day:
Thus it performs both sweet and sour
Piercing the walls; of shy Cathay.

Kisses: mingle, like woodbines...
As brown; blue jay’s mêlée in the eaves...
They’re limbs, entwined, like vines:
Need only, the wind, which cleaves.

Violets stir in her amethyst nap
She my oracle, my lover—sings
And awakens; from the frozen snap!
A mortal being, with; wings.

Certificate PG
Poem
Fantasy

Comments

Submitted by skinner_jennifer on
Hi Mark Heathcote, I absolutely adore this poem, so beautifully descriptive, definitely one I could read again and again. Thankyou for a memorable read. Jenny.

 

Submitted by shoe on
I think this is a beautiful poem, I wonder if you need all the punctuation - just a thought- and do you mean 'their limbs entwined, like vines' The flower references are enchanting, much enjoyed.