It wouldn't crush me flat
to find I pester you as much
as you
do pester me
so welcomely. In gentle
suffocating crush. But
it's a lie I'm pestered,
here. Or now, or any
where or when that you
come in to do just that.
It doesn't wear, nor break
nor even bend the way you
bend my ear, inpouring all
these spark-bright thoughts,
which I return forged into
stars. The difference should,
but shouldn't ought.
Confess! Confess I pester
you! How can we know the line
too far? When merrily we romp
in play so right across
just each and every line
that sense or reason limn,
or would - if we weren't just
the way we are?
A Pocketful of Poesy was and is again a Poem-a-Day(-on-Average) Blog! For 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012, and now for 2017 and going forward, you may expect to see 365 poems every year, 366 for leap years.
but aren't they all random?
Sunday, March 21, 2021
reciprocity
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