Seasoned Souls
May any friendly wind with nature’s magic breeze
And rescue his soul from this ogre of flicker,
Sensuous liquor, insatiable sexual freeze…
A pricker that smothers soul and makes him sicker.
Satiation of sensuous pleasure does drown
Him, in flood of desire as luscious as a drug;
His fingers tiptoe his prey, an enticing crown,
And now he wallows in this wild flood of mud.
Virtues ones see mud born lotus rising sky high,
And how its leaves roll swiftly down the dirt we throw,
And they season their minds so that their souls can fly
Freely with wide open wings; in sky high they glow.
Jan. 26, 2021 (originally posted on Dec. 28, 2020)
ALL YOURS (Jan 26) Poetry Contest
Contest sponsor: Brian Strand
Copyright © Newton Ranaweera | Year Posted 2020
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