Poetry Blog by Celia (escape)
Speak to me like you speak,
in tongues, or in plain old English
dusted with a view of sparkly seas
or oceans, as you say, my owl.
My crow, my dove, my dolphin
plunging among the waves that roughen,
among the sands that graze and toughen
your skin and hair but soul untouched.
Tell me of the call you heard
from a distance, from the depths
of blue or green or blackened water,
the rover, ...
Thursday 22nd September 2016 3:26 pm