The Maverick - Poem by Hazel Durham
The young man walks with an attitude,
Of never taking part in life's race,
His hand reaches out to pet his dog's shiny, warm coat.
The young man is like the deep, dark forest, so remote,
Loving the wildness of the constant growth,
Reminder of past centuries.
His eyes changes colour as the afternoon light fades,
Nights rolling in of finding women to love him,
To satisfy his inner yearnings to conquer,
To feed off their neediness,
And to capture their loveliness.
He is as untamed as the tigers roaming the African plains,
Never will he be bound and chained,
He see's diamonds glistening in womens eyes,
He unwraps their secret's with care and tenderness,
Every day is a victory of hearts joined.
As his words lovingly caress,
Like the wind blows with it's invisible force,
Broken souls on the midnight train,
With his tears of loss,
Like the unstoppable beat of the rain.
Drenched in the past of the one woman he loved,
Beyond heaven and earth, ,
His mother leaving him when he was just a boy,
Dying in pain with her eyes locked into his soul,
Connected forever in the desert of blinding sunlight,
To remember is to have in his hands,
Love fluttering eternally,
As he walks around Carlow farm lands,
Along the banks of the river Barrow,
Carrying the pureness of his mother's love,
That is the comfort of an angel watching
From heaven above.
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