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III
What is July rain without her? Where rains let him dream Her voice is choiring path to blue dawns.
Where rains sought to drench him In surging floods of longing She bloomed like flower-doors.
Just for this song she offered Her dark body to the breezes Of the silent moanful lawns:
What is July rains without harps?
And to realize suddenly she’s the song She is the voided lamp She is the drizzling evening Where possessed palm-fronds dance!
IV
Sweeten my dream Sweeten my song. What’s wrong with Meeting sweetness With sweetness?
Love’s happy sparks ignite us And we fuse and fuse into song That rends us and renews us.
Love is the theme Of the ancient poets. Love is our tune And we grew ancient. Divine in the communion of hearts Poets and Love do not part!
2
Split-song
I
He sought her everywhere Until desire grew into The permeable body and The seductive mood of her.
Epiphanies found him out In the arms of her who Transformed an instant, A taboo, an ordinary desire Into eternal longing.
The seductive mood of her Grew into an absence That became a song intimate A creased love letter, The intimations of a love-torn sonnet.
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SENTINEL POETRY #29, Online Magazine Monthly, April 2005, ISSN 1479-425X |