Poetry

John Whitworth: Two Poems

The Power of Love   How beautiful the boy who holds my heart, How smooth his satin skin, how fresh his feature. He promises that we will never part, This boy who so astonishes my heart, Against all truth, morality and nature.   He is the pinnacle of my desire, The ransom that unlocks my shivering soul. The prophecy that issues from the fire, The pinnacle of my surprised desire, The smouldering rose that glows within the coal.   Now and forever in this world of dew, All quality and excellence are his. He sings the things I did not…

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