The Sweetest Thing That Ever GrewA Poem by Linda Marie Van TassellI open to you like the petals of a rose.
Well-meaning readers, you that come as friends,
continuous as the stars that shine, make me thy lyre, even as the forest is, from cave to cave through the thick-twined vine. 4 Or with thy mind against my mind, to hear and for mysterious things of faith rely, the low light fails us in elusive skies, and, in the churchyard cottage, I. 8 A sloop of amber slips away. O blush not so! O blush not so! Inside, you hold me back, make me wait while at the bed's foot lay the quiver, bow. 12 It's the wetness I like, all over the sheets and you. You are a complete instrument: happy and proud; at last I knew. 16 Sometimes also kneeling for hours on end, and ever when the moon was low, the storm in my dream made me open on the faces that drift and blow. 20 A moon swims out of a cloud. A change came o'er the spirit of my dream. What means at this unusual hour the light? I had a dream, which was not all a dream. 24 When every cell of my body is bursting with life and echoes of the harshest sound are sweet, I see your lips descend to catch my lips. O let but mine their pouting meet! 28 The tale of love gives fame for evermore. So burns the God, consuming in desire. Penetration till it comes like the flood - May I beneath the shaft expire! 32 All I request is a portion of love; but wherever the truth may be, full of love, and full of truth, lovers, continual lovers, only repay me. 36 Be what you will, black night, red dawn. My darling is hotter than midsummer night. I loosen my robe and drift in an orchid boat deep in the deepening night. 40 In a glitter of ecstasy, we, from the fetters of the light unbound, rise, and float away on teeming pleasure, seek out - less often sought than found. 44 The tide is full, the moon lies fair, fresh as the first beam glittering on a sail; and the warm wind is neither still nor loud, like the seething sound in a shell. 48 Glory be to God for dappled things! The ghost of a garden fronts the sea. The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere it is a beauteous evening, calm and free. 52 Love delivers to me its sweetest thoughts, translucent lovely shining clear. I sense another world close to me, its accents of another sphere. 56 A dream remembered in a dream - in such a night, when passing clouds give place. In happy dreams your smile makes day of night for I am blind to all but to thy face. 60 And the midnight moon is weaving. O slip the collar off of base desire! A tear-drop glistening on the lash - the universal wheel of Fate in ire. 64 So sweet that joy is almost pain. Passion or conquest , wander where they will; and beautiful it is to walk beside kissed by strawberries on the hill. 68 I shall not see the shadows, the cloud of mortal destiny. Feed the heart of the night with fire till, framed with perfect symmetry. 72 Eros seizes and shakes my very soul. In seas of flame my plunging soul is drowned. Love is not love until love's vulnerable. How should we grow in other ground? 76 For you and what we do at night together - those paths so dear to me - responding, growing warm, oh, in how slow a fashion. If ever two were one, then surely we. 80 My thoughts might not be, like my body, bare. In liquid raptures I dissolve all o'er. Two lives, a moment, fullness, bliss between the sun and moon upon the shore. 84 The moonlight musical, the darkness clinging, the ruby grinning for its bliss, fragrance too rich for keeping, too light to remember, be praised that time can stop like this! 88 One look is more than a thousand in gold; and whom I love, I love indeed. We meet in moments truant from time. Let us away, my love, with happy speed! 92 I love your face when we are making love. I love to feel you grow and grow be - deeper and deeper into, deeply dipping inside me. 96 I open to you like the petals of a rose. I know your taste and the smell of you. There is nothing I need do to please but be --- the sweetest thing that ever grew. 100 © 2008 Linda Marie Van TassellReviews
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2 Reviews Added on November 8, 2008 AuthorLinda Marie Van TassellVAAboutPoetry has been my passion since I was about fifteen years old, and I love the structure of rhyme and meter moreso than just randomly throwing words upon a page without any form whatsoever. Whi.. more..Writing
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