Baby Love.

[Guest guest]

Baby Love

They say the moon has shed a dark tear of late

but my hill of beans rises higher than astronomy.

That invisible eclipse did jangle my body though.

I heard the howl of snow wolves

startled in my every cell

as they felt the world turn its back for an instant

from the radiant sun of your love.

For a catch in my breath

I heard the dead bolt of death click and slide shut

and my heart shivered once in the arms of its lover.

But that was just this planet turning over

to embrace its soul again from a different position of love.

To take up again an other rhythmic movement

in the karma sutra of its cosmic play.

Today, I am grass new mown and smelling as sweet

as milky babies feet.

I am green as a stem and bright bloomed

opaque with milky sap

for the suckling lips of every honey bee.

The stars have shed their sleep

and dance as fire fly’s upon my Beloved’s breath.

Old man death has tripped his switch

and is lit up as a happy drunk

sharing racy jokes with a tavern maiden

who’s breasts are plump plums

for the wine stained mouths of tipsy minstrels.

Sky fountains of mirth tickle mother earth

and she giggles like a girl again.

I am the ambassador from a land of love

where milk and honey are used as money

and I am spending myself as fast as I can

as this holy rolling man who’s so, so handy with his words

that he can sing the blues and greens,

and the golden apples from the tree’s.

Ah yes, I am the bee’s knee’s and bow so lofty

from my perch on the leafy bower of this love nest

where we swing like children whistling merry songs

for the little birds to catch and feed their young.

And look! There is my lover now.

She has golden buttercups in her hair

and there are fairy ringlets woven there.

Her garments are all greening

and where she sings the flowers go nodding

sprinkling little nectar poems that pollinate the air

to shimmy and dally with the water nymphs

who pour a sparkling drink into the cupped hearts

of the villagers as they wake yawning

from their weary sleep.

And I peep as the sun through every window.

With a word I change the clocks into morning roses

and tweak the noses of the little darlings

and call them baby love

as they turn in their beds and stretch out to smile for God.

love

eric

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