Journey Into the Harvested Fields

I shudder to think I should be lost
In a hailstorm whose stones braze my head
Like torpedoes thrown down from a fighter’s jet
To take over the enemy’s territory.
I thirst for your touch of milky softness
That glides down my throat with it’s warm delight.
The gooey taste of nougat sticks to my vocal cords
And seduces my pallet while overtaking my playful soul.
You are the sweetness I taste on my tongue
When the residue from my chocolate bar remains
To devour my senses.
I gather the reigns to steady you
As you pull my wagon and carry me on my journey
Into the harvested fields.
I climb down from my seat and walk over to the tree
Where beneath the earth lays a stone cold body.
I lay my red roses down by the headstone
Whose epitaph reads, “Job Saunters, a child of the shadows,
Who lost his battle with death one frigid night.
His spirit lives on the inside of the maple tree that now bears
The fruit of his sown seeds.”

Author's Note

What do you think of the prose?

Reviews

[TL Boehm]

To pay tribute to someone lost and still retain that bit of joy, like the bittersweet of dark chocolate on the tongue is difficult to do on paper but you have done it well in this poem.

[Randolf Ramos]

This is truly a poem with genuine love and wisdom! The expressions gives exhilaration of spirit. The author conveyed more than the words could tell.

Great poem indeed!

[Fabian G. Franklin]

"His spirit lives on the inside the maple tree that now bears" I think that I would drop the word "the" before the word "inside" or else add the word "of" behind "inside"; the former being my preferential choice. Wonderful and sad like a tune that makes one mourn without words. The "feel" of the piece is really mood setting.