Irish Honey, Ninety Proof

Kiss-cleft and raven-tressed: elder mare’s blood moon
joked conception sanctified, lit the stars that are your eyes,
wanton soft and silklike steel, Cretan cold, a celtic rune.

Solstice birth: twelve reeds before your naked feet were strewn
for you to trample, dexterous-sinister patterned ancient lies,
kiss-cleft and raven-tressed. Elder mare’s blood moon,

a horny halo, frames your hair, goddess of too soon―
crimson painted lancet nails, lips which need no dyes,
wanton soft and silklike steel, Cretan cold, a celtic rune.

Molten laughter, liquid love, freezes, severs every boon
and slips, an onyx knife, into breasts you touch with ice,
kiss-cleft, raven-tressed elder mare’s blood moon.

Tonguetip tastes tidbits by conversation’s scalpels hewn;
scythes of hawthorn are your words, wicked, witching wise,
wanton soft and silklike steel, Cretan cold, a celtic rune.

White one, hear this reedy sealike cabbalistic tune,
accept my sacrificial haploid blood, and rise,
kiss-cleft, raven-tressed elder mare’s blood moon,
wanton soft and silklike steel, Cretan cold, a celtic rune.

(C)1976, John Burrows