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"Love without logic is insanity. And vice versa." Silvia Hartmann 


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Steel Lord

by Silvia Hartmann

 

Still is the dawn this day,
the wind is quiet.

Words fail and tumble sadly
from my fingertips when
it should be you I touch
so gently and with such passion.

Your smooth worn strength
and your clear blue power
are alive in me this morning.
Your aliveness
is flowing through my veins
a gift from you
a fifth of you
a token and endowment
from you for me to take in
to treasure, to nourish and to cherish.

Blossom it be, my steely lord.
Nightwind to thee, my steely lord
and all that it pertains
and all it holds in its embrace for us
entwined, enlivened by the breakdown
of our senses
and the breakdown of our thoughts and minds.

There is your smoky taste
your scent envelopes me still,
your voice washes gratefully along my wrists,
my thighs and resonates my bones.
To be right here is right and livid light
a flow so smooth, so strong and full
of purpose power
as I have never known before.

Not ever have I seen a man
become an arrowhead and point
so straight so right ahead and forward;
nor have I ever seen a man
be curled and ready like the bow
at tauntest stretch vibrating
in my hands and pulling straining daring me
to just release ferocity and wildness
so eagerly, so readily, so easily.

The signs of forever bear heavily with you
the load cannot be lightened
nor would I welcome willing to participate
and drag along in harness next to you.
Nay, let it be your burden
you wear it well and proudly strong

I will play pasture open wide
and armed with love and oil,
lay down for you,
accepting what you bring to me,
accepting what you have
and let you give it all
to me tonight.

The day is made of stone
the rigid coliseum walls
which never crumbled
in the tempest time past pastime
rubbing raw and blasting sand
it stands as if it was today
it was created and anticipated.

I am your audience.
I am your cheer and pride
I am your victory parade
and arch of emperors
across the time and space
it takes for you
to get to me.

I am waiting here
slow breasted, tinglingly aware
awake awaiting you my lord tonight.

Come to me in haven safety
Come to me
in whirlwinged splendour.

I await your pleasure
my pleasure
my treasure

as you are.

 

 

© Silvia Hartmann 1998

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Poems & Poetry by Silvia Hartmann