Cracked Plates
I will move the sun and set the moon aflame if you ask me to
I will count the new-mown blades of grass in the spring and pull
any hint of a weed from their midst
I will peel you apples and choose those with the duskiest blush
streaking their pale fruit, lay them on cracked plates for your dinner
I will sing with the nightingale and the skylark, to provoke your slow smile
no thing you could name will prevent
these constant efforts to see you happy
you are a last hurrah, a hallelujah, a hurricane
the eye of the perfect storm
you are electric, shocking with a joy that shines slowly
and demands my return to earn another lovely scar.
2 comments:
i really like it! and i know, you would do all of this for me, right? i thought so. but seriously, it's really good.
So I love this with a passion that burns brighter than 1000 burning suns....
These lines:
"you are a last hurrah, a hallelujah, a hurricane
the eye of the perfect storm"
are awesome and I adore them.
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