Prophet of Bliss
Don’t be afraid of requesting a kiss
From the boy whose lips you know you’ll miss.
Be he a master of tongues? A prophet of bliss?
Be he foretelling the tale of Heavens distress?
Off into the wilderness he cast a broken shadow,
Knock, you’ll discover he’s hollow. As Ivy
Creeps the grapevines weep whilst we attempt
To keep our calm in composition.
Dance for the hearth, the wings that may lift you.
Dance for the songbird, the songs he may sing for you.
Dance aflame upon the ocean, Keep on dancing,
Chance upon poetry in motion, loose yourself behind the wall of sleep.
poem by David Lacey
Added by Poetry Lover
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