A Love Song for International Women’s Day

My heart is as a room swept clean,

To honour an invited guest,

And she I’ve yet to meet is looking,

Looking for a place to rest.

She has courage, wit and beauty,

A gentle grace, a healing fire;

Yet the woman I know is weary,

Weary and has wandered far.

My room is friendly, warm, but bare:

An old oak door stands open wide,

And though unknown she feels it’s home,

And fearless, singing, slips inside.

O heart, o hurt and hungry heart,

Though empty you are filled with light.

Quite still she sits illuming there:

Her skin is dark, her body bright.

The planet of my belly tilts,

Falling, falling toward the sun:

Dare I embrace desire again?

Or should I turn my back and run?

by “Jacob Bauthumley”

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About jacobbauthumley

Just another Ranter in the blogosphere, based in the East of England in the UK. Interests literature and poetry, poets, communism and communalism, socialism, the destiny of humankind, the Ranter folk in the English revolution (one of their writers was called Jacob Bauthumley: click on About and you'll find a piece on Ranter beliefs, with a quotation from Bauthumley himself), the Green Party, philosophy, ethics, science fiction, the novel, France, Norfolk, global warming, humour, music, and survival. "We must love one another or die": W H Auden, in the poem 1st September 1939.
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