deserted

deserted in the desert

of the dusk of my youth

to stagger and stumble

on the swamp of unemployment

to become trapped

in the trap of poverty

but i am now intoxicated

with red wine

that divine love demanding a dance

expecting from this toddler of grace

a demeanour of the man

who embraced

his death in loin cloth

leaving elegance

his fabric of glory to enemy

to cover shame

the stink in soul

and with cream covering

aging wrinkles

henry victor               11.10.2011  

the fruit

the fruit in my hand

is for love i like to expand

but i hesitate to give

for there is a worm inside

the skin shines with colour

multiple and the wave within me grows

larger but i will, very soon, yield

for the sake of the seed

hidden, deeply buried within

to grow, to give

more fruits for my hand

and songs for all around

© henry victor      19.05.2014