By Lewis R. Humphries
He
missed a
careworn touch,
and would often
knead the arid loam
at her tendered graveside.
From pursed fingertips, the wisps
of a fragmented land would neatly
garner in the furrows of his palm.
But
that was
not enough,
by any reach
of self assertion,
and so he made his bed
beneath the herald of autumn.
Where his hands unfurled from restfulness,
and seeped conduits of the tenebrous earth.
Until
immersed
in the surfeit,
and prone beneath
a swell of landslide,
his colour paled against
the mantle of russet brown.
Where the burden of contrition,
tempered to the beats of stifled breath.
missed a
careworn touch,
and would often
knead the arid loam
at her tendered graveside.
From pursed fingertips, the wisps
of a fragmented land would neatly
garner in the furrows of his palm.
But
that was
not enough,
by any reach
of self assertion,
and so he made his bed
beneath the herald of autumn.
Where his hands unfurled from restfulness,
and seeped conduits of the tenebrous earth.
Until
immersed
in the surfeit,
and prone beneath
a swell of landslide,
his colour paled against
the mantle of russet brown.
Where the burden of contrition,
tempered to the beats of stifled breath.
- - -
Lewis Humphries resides in Birmingham, UK and has been writing in his spare time for over 3 years. He mainly writes poetry and short fiction, about anything and everything that moves him. His publishing credits include Twisted Tongue Magazine, Tales from the Moonlit Path, Conceit Magazine, Everyday Poets, Ghostlight, Foliate Oak Literary, Bare Back Magazine, Franklin Christoph and The Blinking Cursor. He as also been featured in several UK and USA anthologies including A Collection of work from Writers Wall.com, Gene Genii, a collection of Flash works sold through Amazon, and the Tacu May 2009 Anthology. He also has a website - www.withlovetoyou.com
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