Thursday, July 19, 2007

Dew In the Harvest Moon

To search for the root of you
the tendril of your ecstasy
is the reason for muscularity
in a tongue.

Yet it tastes on its way
finds the saline in the succor
the sugar in your sap-making

My tongue as a tap
as a means of production
of confectionery
cause celebre
makes me a farmer, a forester
a man who reaps what he sows
and toils in fields
once dead.

And on this eve
in this reprieve
this unrequited requiem
of the harvest moon
I will lay aside the scythe
and the plow
and instead look to you
deliciously organic
and till...
and till...
until nothing remains fallow.

Originally appears at WetPoems.


Shameless said...

Hi there, :)
Congratulations again on your win in the lion circle contest! Now it's time to get a book voucher to you. Could you please send me an email to let me know which Amazon site you would like to redeem the voucher at ie:,,, etc. I need your up-to-date email address plus the Amazon site of your choice. The voucher can only be redeemed at the site you choose and this can't be changed afterwards. Send your email to:
You may have already sent these details but please send them again because my normal email account (at caramail) is out of action/unable to be accessed because of an upgrade. Thanks, and congratulations once again, Seamus.

Rax said...

this is beautiful and sensual. I really love the tongue image. the first line is captivating. the ending succulent and exquisite in the sound and wordplay. till, till... i love that

ozymandiaz said...

Ah, yes, the Orgy of the Bards. I remeber this one. Great work. One of my faves from that particular ringing.

Bek said...

Shes a lucky lady..........