The Lunge

      Prodigal of laughter, stoned on your own 
      Adoring, lady, you come bearing white wrists 
      And white palms. Ensanguined chafes 
      Marr no innocence of your heart's marketplace 
5     Where a thousand eyeing roads have stumbled 
      And one has come. Chartless, mapless, and alone 
      I pursued the drunken lily of your brow. 
      Forethought at the masthead would have me dread thy death 
      But I came with the starlight, seeking exit 
10    When it dies, extinguishing with the universe. 
      Oh do not tell me of her face's radiance! 
      I have felt the radiant proof, and have confessed. 
      Her face has traced its cameo in my breast. 
      Spied waterspout beyond the breakpoint of my bones, 
15    Glorious and golden, your daffodil surmise 
      Flatters my chaste hand in the obsequious sunrise.

 

From the collection "The Rose Lasso"

Written by Gregg Glory [Gregg G. Brown]

More information available on gregglory.com.