Is it not mine to mingle
With the subservient scent of citrus?
Or to glide creasing fingers like soaring doves
Through the frothy waters?
Can the ring of sunbeams not sag through the window,
Bounce across the crockery like vows upon the tongue
And be united with my distant eyes?
Are the little stones that build the wall
Not to be acknowledged by a not-man like me?
Am I only to admire the finished business
Shut out forever on one side of it?
Nay, I shall remain in the Light,
Simple and clean drifting like suds through my distant ears.
Without a marriage of paint a portrait cannot admire.
Without a betrothal of words a poem cannot inspire.
YOU ARE READING
Juvenalia Miscellanea
PoetryExperimental poems I wrote about growing up, being different, coming to terms with my religious beliefs, friendship troubles, all sorts really! I made the cover image on wordle.net
