ASTRAL WET
Senses turned addicts, The smell, mien and the need. Lo! There's he held, - While around, afar or unseen., Swear oneself witnesseth Not a marvel as one. An inch ain't driven, To ponder and sojourn. Onset was when A fortnight to come, - Of ardour and stance For a moment of glance! A cry in tranquil To sketch the gloss, Imprisoned thyself In a silvered shelf! Prepped a few verbs, Rehearsed, all set., Aware yet curtailed, - Posed his best bet. Of years long pursuit To seize thy silhouette, An yard's reach has slain angst There he lies astral wet... Supernova Poems (US4AK) ©® 14:11 3 June 2018