by John G Evans

Created on: October 13, 2010   Last Updated: October 24, 2010

Love's essence on Nova Scotia’s gloomy coast of mossy granite, sudden gray squall, punished by a presumptuous wind coming about, like aquatic gusts, rain pebbles fall from a thunder-squall’s lightening sky; a resounding bell, a gloaming earth nigh, like a monastic Bedouin poet of prophetic high, written for the one my restless, sojourn heart aches for; a beauty as a silver ghost, unchained, though sobbing, as twilight nigh upon a desperate shore; thinking, feeling, of our last embrace near Halifax, only a schooner’s beat to windward away; the shoreline of bloody crustaceous coral strikes my fleshy feet open to where we used to wade; humbled by the silence, sounding of finality, transience heats only to scribe her pulsating  poetry and verse where I long for your full measure to draw nearer mine own heart.

My psyche in full surrender to metaphorical, imagery, desires your essence, your divine presence as you kiss me and draw nearer my heart of flaming peacocks as the movement of the tiny bird’s beating heart.

Rain droplets ripples through to your open eyes harmonizing your exuding sobs, in your quiescence, weepy thoughts that swell from the bloody depths of greenish-gray, where white-caps copulate the thickness of the rising, lonely sea.

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