New lands; a page in a book

and not the blankness I mistook.

A portrait, so clear and concise

and purity like crystallised ice.


Skin of glass that moulds the finger's edge

and to the lips I silently pledge  -

for not the texture of thy river-like hair

when measured to emotion couldn't compare.


For the words that mean more than I be

erupt from a creature of majestic divinity;

angelic and whole in everything spirit,

but low and cunning and full of wit.


Need to be something of the mind

and not that which stays behind

and the everything will move to good 

and all feels as it should.


  • willyweed

    this is indeed a lovely poem nice work Luke!

  • Tony36

    Well written and expressed Great write

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