Undiluted rain
Undiluted were the tears she shed,
staring to far, as doves fled in pairs,
dusk descended amid broken affairs,
the silence was dense; my one wed.
It was September, the first of rain,
after the harvest, the maids passed,
with persistence the clouds amassed,
drops falling randomly to our refrain.
So she belonged to mizzle's Autumn,
our glances crossed, curious, well set,
powerful of a coincidence, as we met,
first rain formed an uplifting column.
She wore black, of stored grievance,
all hearths lost kin in freedom's war,
in nineteen hundred ten, and before;
our eyes dueled, she stared askance.
I passed that night under her louvres,
she gazed; velvet her glance an' braw,
her attitude bold, untamed and wraw,
her eyes contained my poetic oeuvre.
The moon rose out that night round,
unsubmitted she came, in lunar light,
Pressed against the wall a flesh rite,
to carnal prayer she turned on ground.
And then again, the downpour started,
eyes reflecting flash, on earth groped,
with me confessor to skies she eloped,
under the rain, her lips bitten imparted.
poem by Giorgio Veneto
Added by Poetry Lover
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