Sunday, August 21, 2011

Going Home.

The cool earth beckons me
With indescribable sweetness.
My words are my cushion,
My hands a pillow of flesh.
I sleep in the grassy knolls
Sweet marshlands.
My soul connects with life.

7 comments:

  1. I'm not sure if you wrote this with death in mind, but I read it in a very sensual light. Nice.

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  2. Your picture actually made me think of irish immigrants. I wrote this about their connection with the land. So yes, there is a sensual aspect in it :)

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  3. I think of a runaway child seeking refuge beneath the stars in a faraway land, finally finding peace.

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  4. smiles. that is just the place i love to sleep...out in the nature...

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  5. An excellent poem, a very evocative image.

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  6. Like Tess, I read a very spiritual thread in this. Very nicely written.

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  7. Oh, the peace of a meadow nap, or the final sleep...

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