by Tom Mcmurray

Created on: February 23, 2011

I rest my head upon her ripened breast,
In awe of every tender, taken breath.
Too long consumed by vanity's rapport,
Between the mighty mountains and the moor,
To leave the shady sadness of the lake,
Where bitter winds would blow and often make
My soul confront a darker, centered core.

And here I lie, in all humility,
Upon the breast of pale fertility.
So snugly wrapped within her shroud of peace,

Beyond the voices screaming to me - cease.
No boat at Lethe's shore now waits for me,
I've come to join my goddess by the sea
And cover every furrowed sinful crease.

How beautiful her radiance surrounds,
The memory of darkness that abounds,
In caustic clouds of all my evil days;
That ferried every scar from evil ways,
Releasing sullen thunder from my soul,
Constructing all the remnants into whole,
Her lips now level with my ear - she prays.

"Release him from the rumble and the rage
That now invade this sanctuary stage.
Protect his solemn space and tender tears.
Remove this gallant spirit's haunting fears
And take unto your bosom's burning light
His purity of soul to guiding sight;
Console and bring him calmness through the years."

My heart does still this summer-night of rest
When passion for her beauty soon does crest.
She strokes my skin with soft and silken hair,
This lady of redemption lying there.
And soon all gloom and sorrow does take flight,
Now banished to the burning blue starlight;
This night my lady lay to rest - despair.

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