My thoughts droop like low
hanging fruit, pairs as sweet
as the ripe nectar inside.Sway my mind i beg of you.
Words blister and rot in the sun,
oh how they ache for the shade of
your common-sense and calm.I flock to your shade to quieten the
buzz amidst the haze - the scorch that
burns and flares the flesh inside.You're the breeze that tempers the tempest,
the relief of a cool breeze in the sharpness
and sting of summer heat.Sway my mind of only this, please.
It's the only thing i'd ever ask of you.
YOU ARE READING
Blackberry Thistles ✓
Poezjapoems as delicate as the fruit itself, and as thought-provoking as the sour aftertaste. All Rights Reserved. Copyright © 2019 Kate H. > third place winner of the gem-mers awards poetry section 2020