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Before the storm. In all love’s interest am I a darkest storm For your love has made me sensually deep As dangerous as any hard thunder’s form Which causes me to love in action’s sleep. Passion finds my wanting has no control That I wrest, wild, from you a lusting soul In you have I learned about a wildest tide All emotion’s tempest in poor need’s forcing In my taking have I laughed and cried So love has found me from calm divorcing. In naked sense were you a raft of pleasure To tongue the tasting of love’s dear treasure In this element, out of depth, am I aground All tidal waves, swollen thrusting current The good and a very worst is now found A rush to shore in the foams’ white torrent You limpet-cling to a crash of this thunder Moaned as impact drove soft lips asunder You have given my heart an inner sight This reaction to passion’s awkward role Calm were the days, then stormy nights No good behaviour which earns parole No safe harbour was for this ship in plight Savage seas of love rained down this night You brought me to love, with its coldest blast Then sensual heat which left me over-warm And mixed blessings when, over, at last You loved me gentle, before the next storm Calming the storm, your soft form shielding I could feel passions’ waves start re-building. |
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Hello! Good to see you on here again.
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Like Ann said, nice to see you back again, enjoyed the poem.
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Hi Ron, good to see you back. Lovely poem. 
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