Seeds By M.M.Wake
The sun, gentle as a warming hand rubs at tired flesh
and soaks through skin to mortal bone and sinew.
This pretension
this cloudless October of late rose
and lavender bloom
emerges from the dusty tomb
of a lost ideal
Suspended as I am in dozing splendour
half eyed, cast in late season drowse
Bewildered insects bathe with wings of light
and scratch at Autumns door
sipping on vintage nectar and late season pollen whilst I pick the driest
of the fennel heads.
Bronzed with age the tiny striped seeds tumble through my fingers
The air drowsy sweet
inebriated with spice and the warmth of other lands
Heavy lidded I dream of Summer Past.
Copyright M.M.Wake 2011
http://www.feedbooks.com/userbook/23402/seeds to download to iPhone or Kindle etc
and soaks through skin to mortal bone and sinew.
This pretension
this cloudless October of late rose
and lavender bloom
emerges from the dusty tomb
of a lost ideal
Suspended as I am in dozing splendour
half eyed, cast in late season drowse
Bewildered insects bathe with wings of light
and scratch at Autumns door
sipping on vintage nectar and late season pollen whilst I pick the driest
of the fennel heads.
Bronzed with age the tiny striped seeds tumble through my fingers
The air drowsy sweet
inebriated with spice and the warmth of other lands
Heavy lidded I dream of Summer Past.
Copyright M.M.Wake 2011
http://www.feedbooks.com/userbook/23402/seeds to download to iPhone or Kindle etc