Kenneth, loves satire and writings to spotlight others, but he also has an "addiction" so to speak, to dramatic and abstract/prose poetry.
Sliding, singing, atop the rosy sinkng sand
A lover meets the sad sunrise glowing at east
He sighs for her beauty, her hair, her silky hands.
He speaks in misty moans of her beauty feast.
Her eyes faint a loving sight
Where is her heart taken in muted light?
His mouth a-quiver takes a swifted flight.
She barely sees his figure of manly might.
What songs the loving damsel sings so softly
What words create her pedestal shaking so lofty.
No man, no beast, no life of moving creeper creeps
She sighs at his hands, strong when she sleeps.
She laughs such like a giddy little girl
And cries quickly while he teases her hair of golden curl.
He calls for her Raven, a haven so quiet
Her time to race to kiss his face of might.
A slow, feeble step, once her dream of him
Walking a dark vineyard--taking their final breath.
Ah, the sunlight, a life spark so slim
They kiss their death--a silent silken breath.
Summary: in reality, love can only be felt, caressed sometimes so violently, but this abstract/prose offering goes a step far deeper and more serious than any love or lover has experienced.
© 2018 Kenneth Avery