Desert traveler, born of a land unknown.
Boundless and spirited, vagabond soul.
Son of raging sands, and an oasis serene.
Questor, survivor of many irate Khamsin.
Of wild parentage and raging hormones,
None to succor; no mouths to feed.
Lacking reason to exist, or parochial genes;
Nothing to give, and none to yield.
Master of the artful seduction,
Simpleton, love’s fool at heart,
Gypsy soul; nascent passions ignited,
Feeling, lust, love and pain unbridled.
With none to bind, and hearts to bound;
Transforming free wolf to petty hound.
Slipping sagely through fingers clasped,
Thusly, wanderings of the messiah ceased.
NOTE:
With due apologies to a wonderful writer and companion in a series that redefined poetry for me. These pomes are part of a series written in response to each other. Sadly, the other part of the series cannot be presented here without the permission of the poetess.
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