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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=471664" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Under This Tacit Parasol, Your Soiree Perpetuates</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">A soiree in the woods perpetually beckons<br>with florid tinkerbells, soothing lulls, <br>and zephyr unspoken of the leaves -<br>like a gyratory chill of springtime<br>Inveigled, I bellowed and bristled, dyed<br>the colourless soil with my meandering<br>and there upon the serrated grass<br>I found a dry stick lying bemused<br>as futile as the sporadic tremors<br>of the clockwork hands of day</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The night rustled in its bark -<br>threadbare from the weather's brawl<br>the moon beaming upon your shawl<br>with fluorescence that never lied<br>Yet, I didn't pick you up for your frailty<br>ruminates with a perilous enigma<br>under the dark cloaking parasols<br>of the eaves these trees provide<br>I can only lay with you, interpolating<br>with lifted whispers of autumn<br>and the forest's seizing involution<br>was a sapid delusion fecundated<br>by our taciturnly flagrant liaison </div><div style="margin:10px 0">I defenestrated all abhorrence and fear<br>held against the black sheen of things<br>verging on a flawless splendor<br>that topples perfection, precision<br>And in this parcel of the earth<br>you were a king in a naked guise<br>and many a moniker but<br>a mongrel not, for you are<br>pure and stained like humanity<br>except you are subliminal than us</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And with a bad case of forgetfulness<br>I tried to etch you deeply<br>in my own ornately engineered<br>vault of branching and rooted things<br>that even now that the perspiration<br>had dissipated with our communication, <br>the carousal sojourned unbreakably <br>to the station of veritable allusions; <br>I still remember you - as stark<br>as how you've deleted my memory<br>from your pockmarks as it<br>gleamed your true colour<br>when you jumped into the hearth<br>and incinerated to provide<br>a temporal warmth in the<br>ubiquity of vicissitude's morphing</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Your talon-like nose breathing<br>under curses and words woven<br>like silk to the moon's fringes<br>and in this disembogued forest<br>I reckon you as you were <br>vying against the gait lashes<br>that will never be my own<br>like the reveries repressed<br>of a misbegotten photograph</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Eternal childhood dry as a stick<br>coiled silently on the dirty ground<br>differing mathematical equations -<br>I am just like who you were<br>and in this forest's privacy<br>you are eternal, like who you were.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Norman+Santos">Norman Santos</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=471664" data-title="Under This Tacit Parasol, Your Soiree Perpetuates de Norman Santos" data-description="A soiree in the woods perpetually beckons
with florid tinkerbells, soothing lulls, 
and zephyr unspoken of the leaves -
like a gyratory chill of springtime
Inveigled, I bellowed and bristled, dyed
the colourless soil with my meandering
and there u..."></div>
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