Loving Preps Poem by Mark Heathcote

Image His breath over your shoulder - directly
Could that be why your bloodshot eyes weep profoundly?
Softly with indignation - then you are blessed.
Soon your heart - tender-dark will wake from its lurid
Dream; ache to take on all the mournful, full-moons gloom.
Turning you; from ridged granite. Shaping you on his loom
…Into a sympathetically, warm; fabric
Now wouldn't that soft undercurrent be magic…
Wouldn't His love in those dark shadows fill your steps?
Not with chilblains raindrops but with loving preps
Sublime, manifestations, let them follow you
Love envelope you, its a long time overdue.