Convict - a sentenced criminal
politic - judicious, expedient; prudent, sagacious

Mittwoch, 8. September 2010

The days come...

The days come t me as breath to my lungs,
seeking refuge, though refusing to stay...
a midnight lover brushing my body,
as dark clouds would passing a lonely moon...
screening prayers as secretaries would -
still the days come to me unappointed,
annointing me with its weight and pressure,
each gesturing to be the one for me,
but I see pass their lust to own my soul...
Still do the days come, dressed by tempting suns,
a dime, a dozen seeking a husband
in me,tough my soulmate has been declared.
For her shall I wait to recieve true love,
refusing the moment, with no omens,
open romances or second chances -
should I fail my maiden of circumstance...
if only...
her sisters wouldn`t crowd and overwhelm,
with their promises of second-hand love...
wandering in wonder of her ideal,
stolen sessions with her sweet secretions,
smiling in relief from the grief I feel...
prayers of freedom breathe a priceless breeze,
dates of unstressed doubt, no soul-selling fee...
tempting me and delivering distress,
dressed up dreams with beams of blinding sunlight,
caught in the glare bare with time ticking out...
If only loneliness beat its own drum...
I`d sip the serenade as the days come.

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