![]() Cuarto Verso (Fourth Verse for Palma)A Poem by Althea Tremaine![]() Old, old poetry. Things change; this time for the better.![]()
Cuarto Verso (Fourth Verse for Palma) For lack of right words, I subject to these, Whose meaning is tainted with wretched disease:
Cuarto Verso Your eyes become pools that drown every sorrow, Your hands are the craftsmen that mold my tomorrow; Your voice is my remedy, soothing my pain, Your delicate lips are my shields from the rain; Your soul acts a haven that carries my life, Your touch is the master that rids me of strife; Your skin, a horizon that I can explore— A wonderful medium that I can adore; Your passion is mercy that keeps me alive, You love is a bottomless pit where I dive; You kisses are prisons that I can’t escape, Your thoughts become promises I cannot break; Your laugh is a ride to the heavens and back, Your tears overcome everything that I lack; Your anger is love that I dare not express, Your smell is the garden where mysteries undress; Your smile is the air that goes into my lungs, Desire, the language that rolls off of my tongue; Your words are emotions that I can’t explain, Your feelings are forces no one can retain; My love towards you is a theory unmade, Each moment we share is our sadness betrayed; Each poem for you is a fish in the sea, Each verse with your name, an anonymous plea; Each end is no end like the ring we shall wear ‘Til love becomes naught but the whispering air. © 2008 Althea TremaineFeatured Review
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Added on October 18, 2008Author
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