you conquer woods – entrap the cloudy skies
with fingers stretched you carve my burning skin
I open up like autumn-ripened cowpeas skive
our breathing’s heavy as we yearn for sin
you finger-paint in sanguine ecstasy
with laughter hurled at moon-man’s anguished face
I serve you tender lambskin empathy
while you devour our love in famished haste
but when your ember dies in whiffs of ash
I desert-sit beneath a burning sun
while clouds electrify my swiftest flash
a craving dies to vulture’s daring stunts
my only solace is that spring returns
reborn again like Phoenix rise and burns
Naked man and woman by Pablo Picasso
A poem written at the end of spring. I still try to work on using the effect of slanted rhymes. Linked to Poetry Pantry
Björn Rudbergs writings 
Greatness.
Many thanks
Ah, the end of spring signifies the beginning of summer. And yet it will always return. I can see that slant rhymes has become a bit of an addiction – intoxicating, aren’t they? I loved the feel of this.
They are very intoxicating.. and summer just come with burns… 🙂
Nice. I really liked the rhymes and the overall picture created. Interesting and vivid metaphors. 🙂
An interesting piece, Bjorn. There are a lot of images in this. 🙂 —Susan
Bjorn, I always find your poetry intriguing..The picture is one that fascinates me and compliments the poem. Spring returns indeed it does and to have the Phoenix rise is amazing.
I think you’re tempting me—to write a sonnet using slanted rhyme. Really well executed. Worth of Petrarch or Shakespeare or You!
Thank you 🙂 yes the slanted rhymes really moves my inspiration into sonnets again… I hope you try.
Reblogged this on The Iridescent Bubble and commented:
Amazing.
And yet, that is solace enough, when it is our own bodies that cycle through all seasons and back again. Such yearning is here, such reluctance. Beautiful.
Breathtaking description of the erotic interaction between intermittent lovers. . . . First I’ve heard of slanted rhymes. Guess I’ll have to check that out.
Yes, spring always does return; and the phoenix again always rises. A wonderfully composed poem, Bjorn.
you finger-paint in sanguine ecstasy…ha, and tender lamb skill empathy….getting a little hot in here bjorn
“my only solace is that spring returns
reborn again like Phoenix rise and burns” Oh, that’s the beauty of it!! Lovely sonnet, Brudberg!
this was a cultural, ethnic, ritualistic, natural fun read. I see it that way. good evening.
Awesome, Bjorn.