From Australia With Love
by Barbara A. Taylor



hugging sacred rocks
in pulsing moonlight
triggers emotions
for this time to share;
a time for amatory wishes,
ONE cannot own another's thoughts.

TWO souls in space
swimming, searching
like sperm to fertilise a golden egg,
discovering a valid connection
to enlighten
bring forth
mature fruits of generous
wise womanly ways ...

THREE decades have
been and gone
and lingering
in pounding hearts
the unexposed
of this love
still dwells.

FOUR times I've called.
Automation tells me:
you're not at home today,
but there's a glory in
these stars, this moon,
so say astrologers
that guide me:
they say that we'll meet soon.

FIVE years ago when the car
I crashed,
my life before me
I've wondered since
do you still live?
Your photograph
makes me cry.

SIX days of sun
brought freckles to your face,
you danced naked,
floated in Azolla coated dam.
You picked bunches of daisies,
like a child presented them
in laurels, accolades for
our perfected harmony.

SEVEN years together. Lucky
this number. A heptad drenched with passion
creative ideas and thoughts.
We imbibed too much
from this golden Chalice,
became overly drunk
on reflected illusion.


©bat aug2000

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