Tellingtide

Now the Thames knows
it can come and tell.
For though you know,
re-telling will not stale
and may be,
maybe,
can show a-new
something of what seeds
in every utter
for you, enjoys.

Come here,
come swiftly,
come now,
for I long for a holding
long,
soft, warm, true.

For, while the Thames tells,
it does not bear back
for whom I care
into my arms.

2 thoughts on “Tellingtide

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