“… body was a lute
Whereon my passion played his fevered song”. Wow! Amazing poetry!
A Memory of June
When June comes dancing o’er the death of May,
With scarlet roses tinting her green breast,
And mating thrushes ushering in her day,
And Earth on tiptoe for her golden guest,
I always see the evening when we met–
The first of June baptized in tender rain–
And walked home through the wide streets, gleaming wet,
Arms locked, our warm flesh pulsing with love’s pain.
I always see the cheerful little room,
And in the corner, fresh and white, the bed,
Sweet scented with a delicate perfume,
Wherein for one night only we were wed;
Where in the starlit stillness we lay mute,
And heard the whispering showers all night long,
And your brown burning body was a lute
Whereon my passion played his fevered song.
When June comes dancing o’er the death of May,
With scarlet roses staining her fair feet,
My soul takes leave of me to sing all day
A love so fugitive and so complete.
Anna Waldherr
May 31, 2015 @ 16:51:39
Stunning. Oh, to have such eloquence.
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mariewilliams53
Jun 01, 2015 @ 11:08:52
I totally agree! However, “eloquence” recognises eloquence, which you have in abundance! 🙂
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Anna Waldherr
Jun 01, 2015 @ 17:28:15
How lovely that you think that?! Misguided (LOL), but lovely. I’ve come to feel we all have a role in God’s plan. I’ll never be a poet like McKay or you. But I do what I can. Thank you for expressing what I cannot.
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mariewilliams53
Jun 02, 2015 @ 11:11:28
Thank you so much for your lovely comments. Not misguided at all …. lol
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belasbrightideas
Apr 04, 2017 @ 04:47:36
” … warm flesh pulsing with love’s pain” – so descrptive. Wonderful poetry.
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mariewilliams53
Apr 04, 2017 @ 13:23:06
My goodness, it is pretty amazing stuff! How come we don’t hear about these amazing poets, that’s what I want to know?! Thank you for appreciating Claude McKay as much as I do, Bela.
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