Weave a circle round him thrice,
And close your eyes with holy dread,
For he on honey-dew hath fed,
And drunk the milk of Paradise.

—Samuel Taylor Coleridge


We started out starry
And fell to earth;

What did we expect?

All the books got it wrong
So I doubted it was real,

But after all this time
It must be—
Your soul is entangled in mine.

Surely by now we know:
It’s love; it is love—
But will there ever be good news?

Beneath torrents of spring rain,
Buds come to life –
And so do we,
Beneath torments of tears.

Love is suffering –
And that's the happy ending…

It’s strange how we endure
In a world of pain.

Sorrow binds us –
My only disillusionment
Is unspoken words.

Other women
I can flatter and praise
But you,
I must tell the truth;

So I send my words to you
Over the ethernet,
A message in a bottle

These words from vintage years…

So uncork,
And drink deep;

Let the consonants
And vowels
Tickle all the way down.

© 2019, John J Geddes. All rights reserved


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I love the "message in a bottle on the network" imagery...