Soup's On
I’m sittin’ ‘ere before the screen
surrounded by some friends unseen
A touch or two behind the scene
With senses oiled in Irish mist
and memories of those I’ve kissed
In ecstasies of rising bliss
And sweet fantasia’s emptiness
Of spinning into deeper eyes
That even thee can fantisize
And in this space of aura sense
I feel I cannot recompense
This feeling of belonging
This answer to my longing
So out of touch
And yet so much
Of ephereal bonding
Copyright © Donald Meikle | Year Posted 2006
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