Sensibility

I wait for morning to wake you is
and ruffle your golden flecks falling like dust on the floor when dancing me into a stupor,
and those occasions and those fleeting moments and those lucky days
relight my ashtray heart.

I'm waking you only to kiss those lips of cupid's-bow genes
and my body is drenched and I'm rekindled and I shiver like the final flame.
I am no longer a wet, finished match.
Let's not watch the clock, let's waste the day away.

Everything withered the tree into the ground
so you could replant my seed.
Bathing me with your blue-eyed watering can, basking me in your sun-mood glory
and there's not a second of doubt and there's karma for goodness and there's minutes I forget who I was.

And this may fall to deaf ears and I may fear and we may sail on the storm;
but this feeling is so rare to come by
I'm quivering when you wake, hoping you won't see how blessed I was,
how blessed I am.

sorry for not answering sooner L.A., it's been a hectic weekend

(02-19-2011, 10:51 AM)LiteraryAntiquity Wrote:  Sensibility

I wait for the morning to wake you is 'the' needed?
and ruffle your golden flecks falling like dust on the floor when stemming me into a stupor this line confused me, it sounds like he has dandruff (no meanness intended LA)what is 'stemming me?'
and those occasions and those fleeting moments and those lucky days
relight my willing, greying, ashtray heart. love 'ashtray heart' what comes before it feels to drawn out

I'm waking you only to kiss those lips of cupid's-bow genes
and my heart's racing and I'm rekindled and I shiver like the final flame. 'hearts racing' feels cliché
I am no longer a wet, finished match. love this and the next line
Let's not watch the clock, let's waste the day away.

Everything withered me into the ground
so you could replant the seed. what seed?
Bathing me with your blue-eyed watering can, basking me in your sun-mood glory another great line
and there's not a second of doubt and there's karma for goodness and there's minutes I forget who I was. i also enjoy the ramble of this

And this may fall to deaf ears and I may fear and we may sail on the storm;
but this feeling is so rare to come by
I don't want you to wake to see how blessed I was, this line confuses me

how blessed I am.

at the beginning you're waiting till morning for him to wake
and at the end you don't want him to wake.?

all in all you have some really great images. i think it could be trimmed down with out losing the integrity of the poem. (just a few nips and tucks here and there, more so at the beginning with the dust thing that's going on) jmo
thanks for the read as always L.A.

Thank you, and yes, Billy it was a dandruff reference...I'm a slightly back-handed compliment type of person, I hope the edits worked for it. Thank you

you left some of my comments on the edit LA.