To B.

I wonder from which beatific tree
You pluck your esculent words?
Each adumbrate meaning mingles amid
The manifested oeuvre of yesterday.

Will I find you amongst paean peregrinations?
The onomatopoeia of your soul lingers
Above creation, above my imitating sound.

Those niveous branches break, but whose mind
Stimulates the growing fruits of such a poets
Unprecedented passion? Do spirits compel?

Haunting and reawakening consciously align,
Between the propinquity meet penumbras offing,
The horizon touches your riparian psyche
And in your words I float, cynosure and imbued.

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Poem © Phen Weston 2014

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9 thoughts on “To B.

  1. F.G.M.

    Oh my God I made a huge slip of the tongue!!! – I meant love IT – but at the same time when you make a “slip of the tongue”, it always reveal something true… so I must tell you, yes, I love you 🙂 🙂

  2. Beyond exceptional. Beyond marvelous. Beyond the words that go beyond. Thanks for writing this one to me, Phen 🙂 (just kidding.) Have a great rest of your Sunday! Forgot to say, brilliant word choices and sounds.

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