The Blanket

My love's eyes are mysterious

tender owl, fearsome fox, meek mouse,

deep stare, dark pool - to make me bloodless, boneless.

tamed at the utter of my name, inner flames doused.

 

His arms are my resting place,

heart's contented, a peaceful reign, inner solace 

many a paramour would concur - to seek uniqueness in this would be an endless chase

and so I forfeit the tiresome race.

 

No matter the will, I cannot deny- from his embrace I would never part

but time and distance I cannot combat 

My foes are quick-limbed - the days dwindle for I will depart.

I set to leave to a far-flung place, my love won't follow thereat.

 

Nestle closer, little bird

Tears trail down a somber face 

Little words whispered sweeter than I've ever heard 

reduced to anger, emotion so base.

 

A present, a gift, to atone for emotions so amiss.

softer and sweeter than any given before

to make my absence  move more swift

a stitched promise sworn.

 

Fingers dance on the moss green thread,

those arms, my sweet escape, work quickly to amend.

blanket of green moss thread spread

shoulders encased, nestled in close - speechless I am rend.

 

The scent of my love, the silk of his skin, the feeling of close embrace,

The gift is enough, the beast inside quenched.

gleaming grin is his face,

dread and woe erased.

 

To my far-flung place I am settled.

When tears and tire come to torment - to my green moss thread I turn

There my heart it mettled 

I rest till to my love I return.

 

 

 

This poem is about: 
Me

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