But once have hands gently caressed this face
Calming inward,a rest-less wanting hunger;
Softly striking the hearts inner pace,
Taming mans beast, that it may be as humble.
Shall I be-gone from this embrace?
...For it is I to choose but to stray;
Not un-like the fleeing avians race
Towards beckoning sun-lit skies.
As evening's blanket un-covers its infinite space;
Sky diamonds form their sempiternal theme
I have so longed for rest upon this place
To lavish within this utopians dream...
And so these thoughts I shall amend,
To fulfill this wander-lust,to no-wheres end...
Copyright © gary bechter