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!




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!








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