The Fountain
The Fountain
Where have you been my love
Did the hours slip from the pools of your thoughts
To go wandering heights in vacant skies
Did they capture their images on high
As you floated through the siphoned mist of your dreams
I stood on the golden rim
Where comes this shimmer quiet in your eyes
Did the blessed heavens kiss away your sadness
Flushed you seem with a new coy brilliance
Coquette by your demeanour disregards my question
I drank from a sacred stream
This sleeping softness sensual pressed to warmth
Pervades the corners of your mouth; teasing brigands
Have those loose moments retaliated their freedom
And gathered the snippets of lust once again into ragged ball of passion
I lay naked in the dust
The tip of your finger is playing upon a pharyngeal string; my love
Purring cat you are stretched bare skinned on a Persian rug
Your playful whispers intone in those exquisite curves
Flexing white porcelain opening of slow swan wings
And I held the source spring of my heart
Impatient now edges the tangled slides of your auburn curls
This gesture turns your shoulder; from behind lowered lashes you look
A predator’s toy in scratching claws lays its throat willingly bare
Ready to be devoured by a single word; of love
I stepped from the golden rim
Your palms carry the visions you have seen entranced
Coursing through your touch with eclectic imagery
There is a moment of succumb, of slavery, in you, my love
Relinquishing all but dignity, proud, honest, capitulation and senses devastation
I drink from the eternal fountain
Copyright © Colin Mitchell Williams | Year Posted 2009
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