My Hands Thine Girdle

My hands thine girdle I clasp thee tight
And embrace you with my soul's might
Swaying in my hands, dallying in thy mist
In starry night with calm air admist
Dancing to our moving stillness
We move the earth, O my goodness!
My hands, thine girdle
I feel thine fertile
Soul spring in
My soul's skin
As the earth moves
To our own grooves
Our souls touch
Our hearts clutch.
With my hands, thine girdle

poem by Kevin Michael Murphy
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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