With my body, I thee worshipped well,

The extraction of  love’s deepest  roots  was free
Anaesthetised  and numbed, I did not  guess
On wakening, I feel loss bitterly

In the mirror, nothing I can see.
But in your note, you surely would confess
The extraction of love’s deepest roots , be free!

Shall I compare this to the winter’s fee?
Where ghouls and spirits seek for their redress
On wakening, I feel loss bitterly

There was a holy spirit, you and me
The inter self is ripped and I am less
The extraction of  love’s deepest  roots  was free

The trinity of love  made its own plea
But only  the  unknown  and darkness  tells
On wakening, I feel loss bitterly

 

With my body, I thee worshipped well,
From my skin to every living cell.
The extraction of  love’s deepest  roots  was free
On wakening, I feel loss bitterly

 

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About Kate Thwaite

I love writing , conversation, art, wild flowers, music and air.And books
This entry was posted in poetry, rhyming verses, Symbol, Thinkings and poems, villanelle, vision. Bookmark the permalink.