She wore a leafy sash, still treasuring
The Passion Flower, which entwined her heart
It bore fruit of the vine, long-festering
Deeply did its memory, its sharpened dart-
Cut her daily, and still bleeds fresh pricked blood
It waxes and wanes and tears of agony flood.
She wore a leafy sash, that’s withering
Across her bosom, hoping a blossom
Rancid-white will open, be slithering
Worm its way back into her, lost gardens.
How any pain raw is sadly prolonging
Each day, when the new sun comes gawking.
She wore a leafy sash cobweb gathered
And look to the moon for some bleak solace
It’s here in those purple shadows, tankard
Drunk to her heart’s content she sees garnets
Seeds of red pomegranate but none, like you
Grow in her heart and leave its residue.
© Mark Andrew Heathcote
Excerpt from the book Back on Earth
About the Author
Marks first book was well received earning him favourable reviews. This being, his second book, Mark, hopes to build on that good reputation and establish his own, brand of poetry.
Mark is a father of five children, and lives and works in the UK. Mark resides in Manchester where he works as an adult learning difficulties support worker and he spends his free time gardening and writing poetry.
Visit Marks Author Page At: www.ctupublishinggroup.com/mark-andrew-heathcote.html