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Impaled
| Open Poetry #49 |
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Impaled |
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jwesley Member Rara Avis
since 2000-04-30
Posts 7563Spring, Texas 
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Impaled Ah, but now my heart torn by you, lying in hands, left and right, what mode of death, oh, what mode vile specter, what mode of death am I to die at those fingertips, yes, those fingertips, whose pointed nails impale, impale my very soul. Ah, such love as mine, foolishly holding on, crying - more, oh more, Oh . . . More © wesley james beard, jr. june 14, 2014 |
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| © Copyright 2014 Wesley James Beard, Jr. - All Rights Reserved | |||
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BluesSerenade Member Patricius
since 2001-10-23
Posts 10549By the Seaside |
Love the analogy...intense and passionate at the same time. Happy father's day to you jwesley. |
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jwesley Member Rara Avis
since 2000-04-30
Posts 7563Spring, Texas |
Thanks, Blues - it was a very nice fathers day. I couldn't do enough of nothing as far as the family was concerned and finally told them I was "bored" doing nothing! So they let me move from the chair - - - to the couch!! . . . and fed me steak. j. |
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