Swobodin v Brně

See her caught in the throb of a drum
Tippling from hide-brimmed stem
Down lineal veins to ancestral core
Opening out in her supple tan
Limbs like fresh foliage in the sun.
 
See how entangled in the magic
Maze of music
In trance she treads the intricate
Pattern rippling crest after crest
To meet the green clouds of the forest.
Tremulous beats wake trenchant
In her heart a descent
Tingling quick to her finger tips
And toes virginal habits long
Too atrophied for pen or tongue.
Could I, early sequester’d from my tribe,
Free a lead – tether’d scribe
I should answer her communal call
Lose myself in her arm cares
Intervolving earth, sky and flesh.

This entry was posted on Wednesday, March 8th, 2006 at 1:58 pm and is filed under General, Poetry. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.