Swimming for Pilgrims
What cloud through yonder window frowns?
'Tis Romeo in his dressing-gown
Alarm clock in his waiting hand,
With other hand atop a nymph.
Who, like an ugly witch, doth limp
Drink to me, lonely as a spy,
Eternity was in our lips and eyes,
one kiss, one touch, your lips touch mine,
Speak no more of her. give me a bowl of wine.
What lake lies placid at the shore?
Is it Elizabeth? I fancy more
Than thirty thousand hippos stand
Just up the road in Samerkand
Chameleons sing among the pines
And stab themselves with their fat spines
Drink to me, distant as a dream,
Vacuity just out of grasp and thought
I sigh the lack of many a thing I sought,
And bathe my shattered head in a stream
Contributors: | dkb, fester, Apsley, Stacy Alexander, brooke. |
Poem finished: | 29th November 2002. |