SALISBURY JUNCTIONS POEM 4

The tempest rages in the Summer heat. Our tempers frayed it seems as if the storm has come, even when the sun shines brightly. The cool of the night has left us and we find that there are creatures of the night. This is Summer at its height.

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"The air of ideas is the only air worth breathing." Edith Wharton

Breathing

Close to me I can hear your breathing,

A sound at rest it calms me as you are,

Syncopated with my own heart we differ,

But our rhythm is spent with pleasure combined.

Touch me and I can feel your temper,

At peace with me I am protected and close,

The pressure of your hand creates a rhythm,

To follow is natural to be led to you.

Believe me and I know that you love me,

Connected to my thoughts you encourage me,

The depth of your understanding makes me real,

A person you encounter and receive.

I can hear your breath as you need me,

A tempest in a bottle like a tiny ship,

To navigate this storm is treacherous,

For into love our bodies slip.

"Love is a portion of the soul itself, and it is of the same nature as the celestial breathing of the atmosphere of paradise." Victor Hugo