Nickspellman Member Profile

...See more Somewhere beyond the veil, far from the claws of civility, Past the grey building that echos hostility, Lies a humble hearth that would save my sanity, touched by the goddess Hestia’s divinity. Oh! Look-emerging from the lemon orchards is my lover, Who runs to bring me a four leaf clover. His golden touch makes me shiver; I swear you could see his eyes shimmer. You could taste the saline breeze, That sprints from the languid sea; the waves thrash in a symphony- My brush drips with aquamarine. You can smell the warm honeyed sky, Curling from the fresh baked pies, Or from the midnight hyacinths that cry , That my golden one helped reach the sky. Those delicate fingers pluck the stings of the lyre, Resonating a rhapsody the gods admire, That fills my heart with desire, As I look dumbstruck ,this heartthrob I’ve acquired. You say,“when you know you know”, And I think I will finally grow’ With my arms linked with my beau’ As we cocoon under the weeping willow. But my ears rings with screams, As I realise it was all a dream; My sheets wet from the streams- Was it all just my mind’s scheme? My world now is once again grey. I don’t know how will I go about my day; My hands have no-one left to sway, For I am as lonely as they say. You tell me, that memory I should not save, But my heart is not that brave. For after all, I am my grief’s slave - You know each day I wish I were in my grave.

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