Treasure Island

Mark Heathcote

(22/03/66 / Manchester)

Redemptive lovers…


My love we haven’t danced or linked arms
Like those leafless apple trees in the orchard.
Not for a while have we rolled in the weir…
Ankle to ankle, souls, bobbing naked inward-
Drowning – 'need no air-bubbles' - we’re -
In no rush, inertia has no more – alarms.

For us… around the corner spring is waking.
As for the moment; its icy dark waters—
Rolling; over boulders, yearningly in circles…
Only tantalize the fires, in our closed quarters.
In truth we have tasted all their musk tendrils...
...Of flower, and ivy bough, lovingly, bursting.

Submitted: Wednesday, July 31, 2013
Edited: Thursday, August 01, 2013

Do you like this poem?
0 person liked.
0 person did not like.

What do you think this poem is about?



Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Comments about this poem (Redemptive lovers… by Mark Heathcote )

Enter the verification code :

Read all 1 comments »

Top Poems

  1. Phenomenal Woman
    Maya Angelou
  2. The Road Not Taken
    Robert Frost
  3. If You Forget Me
    Pablo Neruda
  4. Still I Rise
    Maya Angelou
  5. Dreams
    Langston Hughes
  6. Annabel Lee
    Edgar Allan Poe
  7. If
    Rudyard Kipling
  8. Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
    Robert Frost
  9. I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
    Maya Angelou
  10. A Dream Within A Dream
    Edgar Allan Poe

PoemHunter.com Updates

New Poems

  1. I hear again, hasmukh amathalal
  2. With Some Desires of Surviving, Rohit Sapra
  3. The Goodness Of Solitude, kayanja isaac
  4. FIRE, Philo Yan
  5. Little belief, hasmukh amathalal
  6. Sweet pea to Cactus, Nalini Chaturvedi
  7. Talk less and try to realise, Pranab K. Chakraborty
  8. No hide I bother when play begins, Pranab K. Chakraborty
  9. The shorter the stronger...., PARTHA SARATHI PAUL
  10. I'd like to meet your dragon, Dean Meredith

Poem of the Day

poet Sara Teasdale

Only in sleep I see their faces,
Children I played with when I was a child,
Louise comes back with her brown hair braided,
Annie with ringlets warm and wild.

...... Read complete »

   
[Hata Bildir]