Cusps Of Word

Drifting down from dizzying heights
Morning cold outside the barrier where warm
Your fingers played stereo piano keys each touch an isle
Of rich textural strokes, brushes and thrums taut drum skins 

marrows resonate with flowering notes, light written song
Siren tempest tones curve around so sinuously
Tender chord progressions into nautilus cusps of Word
Many chambered rooms where oxygen vies to rise in wisps
Become lines, quicksilver vines of limbs entwine
Colours climax in ordure of Dawn
Visions of comets passing withdrawn,

Codas composed of infinite nights
Drifting down from dizzying heights .




Poetry by Chaucer Whethers
Read 669 times
Written on 2014-01-24 at 14:59

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You write the most unbelievably romantic poetry.
~Ashe
2014-01-24


Elle The PoetBay support member heart!
You make it sound so sensual and beautiful, yet that hint of pain there

Elle x
2014-01-24