To Swami

The first kiss oh so tender

the second full of memories

of forgotten tears of heart-struck

nemeses and hardwon battles of mind over

matter

It does not matter if we meet again for in a while

I will be yourn and not mine again

as I slumber to bedtime bluesy woos

of lacklustre dreams without your arms to hold me

in your chest of treasured feelings and morning

has broken again without claws nor cause of all

ties of laughter and painful rejoicing for you are the

sweet one who asks not for memory,

only joyous temperance.

Yours

B

 

COPYRIGHT BRUCE E SAUNDERS 2018