Mist
Entranced in mist –
Mind mist; kind mist –
In a lea near woods –
Child woods; wild woods,
In shade serene –
We intertwined,
Exchanged a kiss.
Regal plumes of wings
Fluttered off and on
Attractive blooms:
Perfumed whores with
Nectar bribes.
The lea was our escape –
Innate – as of a child’s imagination;
Our psychotropic fantasy –
Legendary dynasty,
Silent in a deafening
Bliss of nature.
We – a creature paired
In one through coupled hands,
Caracoling, jaunting over
Grassy calluses –
Forgot about the world –
Cruel world, hard world,
In merciless extreme.
For now, we were the dream.
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2010
Mind mist; kind mist –
In a lea near woods –
Child woods; wild woods,
In shade serene –
We intertwined,
Exchanged a kiss.
Regal plumes of wings
Fluttered off and on
Attractive blooms:
Perfumed whores with
Nectar bribes.
The lea was our escape –
Innate – as of a child’s imagination;
Our psychotropic fantasy –
Legendary dynasty,
Silent in a deafening
Bliss of nature.
We – a creature paired
In one through coupled hands,
Caracoling, jaunting over
Grassy calluses –
Forgot about the world –
Cruel world, hard world,
In merciless extreme.
For now, we were the dream.
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2010
Dear, Though the Night Is Gone
Dear, though the night is gone,
Its dream still haunts today,
That brought us to a room
Cavernous, lofty as
A railway terminus,
And crowded in that gloom
Were beds, and we in one
In a far corner lay.
Our whisper woke no clocks,
We kissed and I was glad
At everything you did,
Indifferent to those
Who sat with hostile eyes
In pairs on every bed,
Arms round each other's neck,
Inert and vaguely sad.
O but what worm of guilt
Or what malignant doubt
Am I the victim of,
That you then, unabashed,
Did what I never wished,
Confessed another love;
And I, submissive, felt
Unwanted and went out?
Its dream still haunts today,
That brought us to a room
Cavernous, lofty as
A railway terminus,
And crowded in that gloom
Were beds, and we in one
In a far corner lay.
Our whisper woke no clocks,
We kissed and I was glad
At everything you did,
Indifferent to those
Who sat with hostile eyes
In pairs on every bed,
Arms round each other's neck,
Inert and vaguely sad.
O but what worm of guilt
Or what malignant doubt
Am I the victim of,
That you then, unabashed,
Did what I never wished,
Confessed another love;
And I, submissive, felt
Unwanted and went out?
WH Auden