SENSITIZE ©

For the Bard
by Kate Lander © 2009. All rights reserved.

I know not what you want of me;
You wear a crimson cloak of love.
Beneath, on whorls and sweep of skin
I fear just comfort worn instead.

In brooding pools of brown water
I try to catch little fishes.
A slither and touch of passion
So quickly darts away to depth.

The fear catches you in your sleep;
As it does me, of being one.
Though are we not both one and two?
A sum in theory only.

You speak of past perfection lost
Which I live in the shadow of.
I am not her or the Lady
To whom the dagger came goading.

I speak not with a silver tongue
Wrought on South American shores;
Nor do I teach the tender minds
Of Bards, of Poets, or of love...

I am made of my own future
a mannequin made from my past
clothed in dreams and expectations
but they lie and I am naked.

I would take your scarred mind and heart
And wrap it in velvet or silk.
would pour ambrosia on lips
which would kiss but for memories.

Though you relish the pain of loss
Licking wounds so they stay open.
You hold a crystal in your palm;
look for a Queen no longer yours.

Ashamed of a face once revered
this Gertrude is Ophelia
madness of not knowing intent;
grows to a dislike of oneself.

But thine love for you is truer
than memories of past Romeos.
I can be your muse and alight
the stage in your head with gold.

Your coldness increases with time
As a cup of Nan’s tea left spare;
Untouched it develops a skin
Drink deep whilst the steam still rises.

Put the fear in a box my Shakespeare
and allow this torch, this beacon
To lead you through the darkest time
In the distance lies love and I.


Kate Lander © 2009. All rights reserved.