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Where Wild Things Grow

 

Where Wild Things Grow

 

His arms caress her wantonness

Her earthy moisture leeches beneath her

In ebbing pools and warm this dank place

Where wild things grow

 

He plants kisses in feathered dances

Across her hands in little rows

Fever snakes through her cold limbs

While she presses her nose deep

 

Against the earthen hollows of his neck

Her gray hair still her crowning glory

He pays no mind to her weathered brow

No scar internal or external can diminish her

 

He sees beauty within her faded hues

Where the timothy grass grows sweet

And captures and delights their sighs;

Once again she’s a free bird that soars beyond his touch.

Selena Howard ©2011

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6 Comments leave one →
  1. February 1, 2012 7:26 pm

    nice 🙂 i enjoy the organic nature of this love

  2. March 12, 2012 10:44 pm

    What a romantic poem about the freedom of the individual! I love the line,
    He plants kisses in feathered dances
    This is an excellent poem, Selena.

  3. March 13, 2012 12:13 am

    Thank you Thomas I’m quite fond of that line as well . I’m glad you enjoyed this

  4. August 5, 2012 6:40 pm

    Pretty cool diddy here. Romantic poem, love it, thank you, much appreciated…

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