Writing in Whangarei

35 43.43S 174 19.60E

35 43.43S  174 19.60E    Piet Nieuwland

On this viewpoint of land
island of blood

falls a corpus of light
and the pollen of stars

in the lunar calm of sleep
lies a white body of silence
the rain sleeping in the soil, the sand, the earth

in the penumbra of dawn
violins of fog and the curling mist of your hair
a line unravels from beyond a dream

your soul of champagne
spills a volcano of flowers
roses of a million petals
burst with elliptic kisses

wing beats of embrace
fan your phosphorescent waist

from the catalytic fires of my bones
I kiss your hands with acrobatic glances

Your eyes of kohl undress the afternoon
in feverish rapids of flesh
delirious floating stanzas
blushing vermillion buds
with lips laughing threads of honey
in kaleidoscopes of golden hours
raining mosaics
opalescent amorata
of diamonds and lace
gorge viveza


One response

  1. Piet — I love the language here, so rich, so lush, so full of life and love and longing. Champagne soul — love that especially.

    March 2, 2011 at 9:16 am

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