Ah, my lady love
lies sleeping in her chamber
counting memories
of our life together
her well preserved jams
& jars of wild wild honey
glinting like eyes
in the moonlight
travelling across
the opened cupboard.
Softly, I enter
both chamber and lady
and memory
and dreaming
and reality
all come together
as one.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Oh this is delightfully sensual and cheeky! I love the whole atmosphere of it and the blending of nursery rhyme and the fairy tale of your life. I love the way it all comes together as one. I love the moonlight making all the jars of preserve come alive with a glance and I adore the deftness of you entering both chamber and lady...I laughed at the sheer cheekiness and sexiness of that masterstroke! Ah your lady love was well served by your tenderness and love. Sounds like a Frieda moment? I can almost always recognise a Frieda poem now...this reminds me of the one about the(the title escapes me now!) getting the key from under the flower pot and...oh...you know the one...only entered at a different angel and so a whole different mental landscape ensues. Am I right? Ah...I am becoming the dectective of you and your magical moments of love and loss! Soon I will be an expert in you! Gina XXX