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Date Posted: 11:50:47 07/01/01 Sun
Author: By Peggy Meeks-King
Author Host/IP: 206.97.65.191
Subject: The Veil



TITLE: "The Veil"


"The Veil"


© by Peggy Meeks-King
I walked to the sweet orchard of life
sometimes in dreams, seen many things, some very good
some most evil and gloomy, and mean
dark cobwebs with no spider to be found, no fly either.


Angel wings in sing song sings, strange happenings.
Rain when there are no clouds in the daytime sky,
the sun out and bright, happy with some kind of mad glee,
death when no one could explain it to me.
The moon was there somewhere, without one care or
concern for his place in the universe.
Sometimes he would take pen in hand and write a verse.

Wind that talks to me, from its black trees, and brooks
with no pretty blue and then you, you are the ripeness of my life,
sent to me by Fate, she was happy to send you to me.
You almost look like cupid when you grin, big wide eyes and
you have a very strong chin. She, I guess was
doing me a favor for writing love poems while
listening to silly little love songs, so be it,
I yelled back to her, so be it.

You fight it and I fight it, but I think we have no say
in what is about to become the ripe fruit of our old age.

So I beg you now give me grape-wine at your dinner table,
have green apples there also
that I may know lust, completely before I die, even
with no love it still will be sweet- if not somewhat
bittersweet, take my hand in yours and lead
me into a dance with some romance, don't look up at those
beautiful stars, look
at me, only me,eat me, ride me, let me also be your ripeness of life,
make me one homemade Valentine before I go to the other side
the veiled garden of death, in a tomb I will wait for you,
make it of fine gold and some silver too, the paper
thick and dark red, let me get inside your head,
these things, I also ask of you, drink in my blood as I taste you, suck my fingertips everso softly,
while the wet dew is still on the red roses.
Fill this void, while I still might enjoy your sweet kiss.
Before my bones dry up inside my flesh and all the
desire of my body is gone like a August day in May. -The End-
http://www.postpoems.com/members/topten/
http://www.postpoems.com/members/egyptiandoll










© Peggy Meeks-King



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