Not Since Those Dear Departed

Not since those dear departed.

Solemn oath. three hooks through lips

That tingle with each tender touch

Of he who breathes through furnace 

To the water of a face those shall not meet.

Cow's hooves my mast that drags my garden floor.

No more we closer, tooth or miracle.

It was the scent of Spanish leather

Each smell it's own. our very own disguise.

Six years of goat-skin pickled for a cure.

Farm land have we where nothing ever sows

Only grows the ball that never rolls

Where land is land; where nothing else remains;

One pane of glass

Reflective pond where skates both sun and moon.

Too soon goodbye. the seven wombs of man.

The seven pages. bride and groom alone.

No shepherd grieves more gracious than a fool.

Near broken chains. false idols we where nothing else remains.

How noble hearts tame flowers 

And the tremble of a spoon.

I have bent too many times but am far too proud to beg.

No demon yet has sacrificed my soul.

My heart-bone breaks 

But only when I dance

And I dare you see me smile.

Walk with me a while

Where once we hung our washing out to dry;