You reigned over me, like a cloud with a passion
for rain, Dawned on my horizon, fearful and
awe-inspiring, yet a bringer of good.
And my eyes opened to you, powder lingering there,
Brushing from them as the fullness of my
eyelids flickered, abashed in this new light.
And I will cling to you, like the raspberry jam
to a morning roll, sweet and red.
Oh, so sweet and red. And you eat me,
Filling your needs and yet my purpose,
With a trickle of juice running down your chin.
And I am yours, everything I am, Master, 
Is yours, and I sweeten your belly,
Like the slave I want to be.
And you have brought me forth,
You have given me a purpose, my
reason for being, to serve you, my Lord.
And I bow down before you, palms open and wide
Giving you something humble and rudimentary,
Something only beginning. Like the bud
bursting forth from the stem, I was a seed,
A very old and beautiful one, that
has drank its first love. And you will
Have that rose, Master, its delicately
tinted petals, in cream with that gentle
Blush on its tips, and it is yours to keep,
It's opening now, Watch it. See its heart,
Or the glimpse of one hidden in its layers.
This rose is yours, keep it in the
cupboard, next to the jam, and you
shall have all of me.
A loving gift to you, Master.
                                   --Kerry S. Brodt 29/9/92

This poem is Copyright (c) 1994 Kerry Brodt. All rights reserved.

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