The Lavender Sickness of Vervain

It’s misty green and blue I bleed from my eyes
And the pale moonlight watches as I tear my shirt
And jeans as I am transitioning from man to wolf

The scent of her clusters of camphire and estrus
Holy smoke and evergreen has got me howling 
As the thurible is swung I'm still howling, better run

It’s midnight purple patches that I use to bandage
The wounds after necking with a vampire, in my veins
There’s a fire of passion and I can’t help myself

Ironically, I help myself anyway, to another banquet of kisses
Your porcelain skin, and my engorged eyes filled with skies
This vision let down on a silken sheet, a sight for blood red eyes

Oh the lavender sickness of vervain 
And as you wait I have the musty smell of legends
To unfurl, and the crystal ball tells the future and past

Midnight purple patches and misty blue and green
Set the scene combining for this reverie of Aphrodite with arms
More arms than Shiva even Durga to pull at you

Don’t pull me under with you, my life is just beginning
Blackness, please leave me alone, I sleep in silver strands
As sleep demands and the sun is coursing over
Copyright © | Year Posted 2026

Poem

Post Comments

Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.

Please Login to post a comment

Be the first to comment on this poem. Encourage this poet.

Get a Premium Membership
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a Premium Membership.
Book: Diverse Voices: The Poetry of Human Rights and the Pursuit of Peace