She is the Wild
A poem for a wildling.
She is the rain.
She is raindrops hitting leaves on a summer evening,
When lazy lust descends upon lovers' eyes.
She is the wild.
She is honeysuckle plume and drying wood,
Flowers collected, flowers borrowed.
She is the sea.
Welcoming desire - embracing it,
With a wildling smile (that smile!) and sea sprayed hair.
She is the swell.
Waves breaking on a storm strewn beach,
Angel rays dancing upon an ocean deep - past loves stopping by.
She is the storm.
Our peace gone, our souls parted.
Unsettled waters, love lost before its bloom.
She is the Wild - County Tyrone, Ireland (2022)
Thank you for reading! Be sure to check out my profile for more of my poems and articles.
About the Creator
Juliet W
Writer of lesbian and general poetry.
Articles on a wide range of topics including urbex and social issues.
Comments