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The House Full of Love - part 3
Part three
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Have not returned to investigate
the colours orange or white
Nor black and blue;
Obstinately, settling with the imperfections of a blurred day, after the clouds invaded the sky and marred another morning glory.
The birds will still prey when it's feathers will have withered away.
The Orange swimmers will still gather under the lilies for safe haven.
The caretaker will still bury the scenes as the pages flicker.
The two hearts will now 'dance' when it beats its drum to sacred tunes.
The kisses will now wed 'tongue' and cheek as in the potpourri of orgasmic fire crackers.
The sanity will now hear sweet serenade when oftentimes 'buzzed' in the middle of the night.
The desires will now 'web' as in the opening starburst of a passion play.
The presence will now 'reflect' when it re-surfaces with myriad iced memories...
It is slow approaching a new gold dream;
alone and optimistically waiting;
accompanying the midnight hour's last chime;
neither here nor there;
the seemingly melancholic count down begins;
whence the majestic arrival of the most precious in the pond of reflections: the house full of love!
