But it wasn’t my chivalry you were after…
By Mark Heathcote
Fri, 18 Nov 2011
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1 comments
I knew you too at once felt free.
When the wind blew… through
Your salt wet raven hair. You felt
Newly born when the nightingale sang,
Songs to your chambers—there!
Wearing nothing but earth tarred feathers
We mingled and rolled in our sins…
We were splayed on our backs breathless.
Like two little wayfarer lambkins,
On an ivory moonlit, sheet.
You were the she Wolfe, I a lost shepherd:
You were the sunlight’s nectar
Bound by a kisses dewy; substance.
And I was your invincible Hector.
But it wasn’t my chivalry you were after…
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Comments
Hi Mark, I found this and
Permalink Submitted by skinner_jennifer on
Hi Mark,
I found this and thought it was a beautiful piece
of writing, almost mediaeval.
Wonderfully poetic and enjoyable.
Jenny.
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