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the mission
by Leslie Ann Eisenbergif our love will be
but one tiny room
drape me in your covers
before the morning doom
white silk canvas,
paint away the knife
hide me from this
so-called life
wake my breasts
with one warm breath
seal sky to ceiling,
whispered oath to death
un-stretch your limbs
stay with me here
nestled in our hand-stitched home
everything we hold dear
if our life is but
one days bloom
wrap my body in this
moon-lit womb
my eyes cry, love
your heart, ever true
time bend, clutch me,
curse this little puff of blue 07/16/2004 Posted on 07/16/2004
Copyright © 2025 Leslie Ann Eisenberg
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Ashok Sharda on 07/16/04 at 04:22 PM This is vibrating with life, hopes and beauty. This is a nice flowing piece. |
| Posted by Alison McKenzie on 07/20/04 at 08:54 PM Such reverence for your refuge. Everyone should have at least one. This is going on my favorites list!!! |
| Posted by Max Bouillet on 08/18/04 at 11:18 AM The world we create while in the arms of another is the fantasy we wish to make reality, and yet the reality the sun brings every morning usually takes those arms away and redefines our reality as being lonely. Great read. |
| Posted by Chris Sorrenti on 08/24/04 at 11:55 PM Wonderful expression of devotion and togetherness. The best kind of womb outside of the womb. Kudos for the positive vibes! |
| Posted by Mary Ellen Smith on 01/03/05 at 10:53 AM This is at once sleepy and alive...a cozy lazy feeling. |
| Posted by Carl Walker on 05/31/05 at 10:09 AM my cousin Jean (whom I love dearly for so many reasons) told me she thinks any poem that makes you feel different from how you were feeling before you read it is a good poem. I agree. this is an evocative work, it will take some pondering to get a better grasp on what and why it speaks so to my heart. thank you for it |
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