Mud and Honey

Her sentimental spirit washes free
when clay and sediment come sliding down,
so if she cries, a man is bound to see
a river in her eyes but twice as brown.
I hold her breadth of heart in high respect
and even though the risk is rather steep
to touch the edges of her love unchecked,
the river in her eyes is twice as deep!
Despite the spells of grief, I found my niche—
to navigate a woman’s ardent course,
in hope she gains the courage to unleash
a river in her eyes with twice the force.
In waters often warm and unrefined,
I swim against her current state of mind.


© 2019 Kaleb Pier

[ Once upon a golden never ]
If These Walls Could Talk
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