Language of Neruda's Heart
Because of you, in gardens of blossoming
Flowers I ache from the perfumes of spring.
I have forgotten your face, I no longer
Remember your hands; how did your lips
Feel on mine?
Because of you, I love the white statues
Drowsing in the parks, the white statues that
Have neither voice nor sight.
I have forgotten your voice, your happy voice;
I have forgotten your eyes.
~ excerpts from Pablo Neruda’s poem, “Love”
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Flushed hands spill passion, softly wild
In a languid explosion you rise
With threads and threads of angst piled
Spewing flamed embers’ cries
And I feel your veins in my chest
From twilight laced I rile again
Down fingertips my soul’s unrest
To drain on verses from your pen
A language of fire scents my mood,
That marks thorns when love and rage twine.
Sweet flowers ache as plucked lyres brood
On frail stars, veiled light breaks my spine
Dear Neruda, salt of heart clears
Offering balm of gentle smears
Tribute Verse Contest of Brian Strand
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