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WHEN WILL I WRITE MY LOVE POETRY?

By Saul Lowndes Britton



When I find him

naked by the window

on some sun-drenched and cool late morning,

 

easy smile painted on

at something I’ve said,

voice thick with the honey of an easy waking;

 

something I’ve said and we both know.

Then the lines will drip like nectar

 

and then all will be well

and then I’ll be saved, at last, forever

and then each new dawn will be an ecstasy

and then all life will glow with promise.

 

The metaphors will be inspired;

new rhythms discovered and mastered;

my lexicon will gleam with the golden genius

reserved for those fully alive

in the glory of a Love that Just Works.

 

And because it will be my turn; our turn

And because it will all be okay and have been worth it

And because he’ll come back

and be enough

and stay this time

And because I

 

keep waiting, then, I guess.


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