I Plight to Thee... My heart was full of thistles, My mind was sacred dew, I stymied and pranced about, Yet you fought your way through. To the keep you carried me, High upon your steed. In the castle bower we sank, Drunk on lover's mead. Your hands were rough as leather Tracing Midsummer's Eve, Your lips, sweet destiny cake Startling in their reprieve. A tight fragrant bud, Soft petals of my rose, Spreading in the mist, Lying upon shed clothes. You took me to the altar, Whispering the sacred oath. Before humanity's holy cross, I plight to thee my trouthe. July 24, 2001 Dena Linette Moore I Plight to Thee appears in my collection, Fluidity of Creation, and is currently available at Amazon.com, BN.com, Walmart.com, and most other online distributors. |
Poetry of Love, Loss, and the Occult |
I Plight to Thee... My heart was full of thistles, My mind was sacred dew, I stymied and pranced about, Yet you fought your way through. To the keep you carried me, High upon your steed. In the castle bower we sank, Drunk on lover's mead. Your hands were rough as leather Tracing Midsummer's Eve, Your lips, sweet destiny cake Startling in their reprieve. A tight fragrant bud, Soft petals of my rose, Spreading in the mist, Lying upon shed clothes. You took me to the altar, Whispering the sacred oath. Before humanity's holy cross, I plight to thee my trouthe. July 24, 2001 Dena Linette Moore I Plight to Thee appears in my collection, Fluidity of Creation, and is currently available at Amazon.com, BN.com, Walmart.com, and most other online distributors. |
The front page poem changes every 2-3 weeks. All work on this website are original poems by Dena L. Moore and are copyrighted. If you would like to post any of my work on your site or in print, please contact me or my publisher for permission. The poetry on this site is only a very small sampling of my work. This page was last updated on July 5, 2003 Copyright February 2001 Dena's Poetry: Poetry of Love, Loss, and the Occult is Written, Designed, and Maintained by Dena L. Moore |
