Hissing toward eden
by john clare stokes
Eve was told to leave it
but she did not believe it
and in the beaming face
the long remembered sweet taste
of the first deed.
Oh we marry and bear seed
we live to ripe old ages
but as the favorite book
of the dog eared pages
we return again to the beginning
as if by some distant imprinting
we long for the taste
before the years laid waste.
The face loses the beam
our glory covering
tempted we long to close the book
and to the secret garden look
walking a hundred miles perchance
where awaits the old romance
Serpents lying along the way
hissing us toward the sweet memory.
No comments:
Post a Comment