2007-11-24 - 3:09 PM

clear god of song and muse of words
honey in your mouth
dripping from your tongue
your touch unknown
but our skin remembers when
our pots are filled and running over
hard chest of tenderness
a place to fall asleep without care
hands that could hold the world
yet hold our images in bed
hands that work the field
and pluck our strings
hold breasts in passionate embrace
let us press our face
to places red and rich
hold your hardness to our lips
give us drink of you as we sleep
your secret garden awaits
trembling flowers bid you come
take her hold her for she is yours
all the night we dream in dark
hoping for your tender thought
in the midnight we still wait
listening for that opening gate
trellis lined with every bud
opening with the coming dawn
rising up to reach the sun
knowing you're the blessed one

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