Finding Heath
Night sends awful shivers thundering through tunnels of spineAn evil wind whispers madness thoughts in the attic rafters odd beams
Of moonlight on a rain swept night of passionate blood rhythms and rhymes;
"Where are you, where are you now,why haven't you come?"
He kneels upon the mocking dark green heather, Rodin in wet rough clothes,
Framed by the Windsong and Lightning Strike, Thunderous Heart gongs
Suddenly she is standing there right before him,
Light plays and dances challenges in the power of her eyes
"Look at you all drenched and lost, like a wild beast out here tonight."
She takes his work calloused hand in her own like a burning brand of Soul
Two Hearts in one constellation they shine off across the haunted moors
Poetry by Chaucer Whethers
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Written on 2016-02-20 at 00:18
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