My Love Affair with Poems I Wrote
Takes me back to Long Ago,
And Present Days
Lull me to the Time and Place
When each one was first Conceived
Then, howling, forced its Own Release.

What Control do I Possess
To Contain, Withhold, and then “Sequest”
Sand that’s turned to Pearls Within?
Bite them off and Clamp them in?
“NONE”‘s the only word makes Sense!

Somehow I’ve fallen off the track,
Defending ME ‘gainst NO Attack.
I set about to Wax Nostalgic,
Here I go, I’ll try to Sound it:

Rediscovered Work I’ve Found
Begs Memory to come and Drown,
Evoking, Kindling, Re-Receiving,
Indulging until fully Smothered,
Like the Kiss of Distant Lovers.

Who would foolishly dismiss
My moaning talk of Passion’s Kiss
For my Efforts to Resist
And thwart the impending Rise
Of Poems I‘ve kept locked inside?

(Thanks @milkovic for use of the photo)

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