Thursday 19 March 2015

TOUCHING SILK:


The blind man was asked, “Do you miss your seeing?”

He smiled & said, “No, for all I touch is as soft as silk”,

The baby’s cheeks, where hope & new roses bloom,

My lover´s breast, where I touch, is of creamiest milk,

I feel upon my brow, the passing of bird´s softest plume,

Who needs sight, when touching silk, is all of my being?

 

My darling´s lips are velveteen, bestowed within her kiss,

Petals caress my senses, & within their perfume, lingered,

Fur of prowling beast, is the softest silk of my best friends,

Your love´s promises, by me, are still so silkenly fingered,

Your final ashes, through my fingers, to heaven I will send,

In my ribboned prayers whispered, it´s you in silk, I´ll miss.

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