The fall claims its frost…
but the heart’s once more aflame.
Capturing my eyes…
a cosmic creature with no name.
The type of gift delivered to me…
or a type of temptation forever haunting?
Either way, the glass wall comes down,
shielding around, here comes my frown…
but your type of scent smells too damn sweet.
Please…
let me break through.
You’re right here…
I’m standing over there.
Please…
let me break through.
Do say it’s love…
and not lust in the air.
Don’t usually play…
these chutes and ladders,
yet breaking barriers
is all that matters.
For one moment…
just one touch.
D.J. Whisenant
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these chutes and ladders,
To make this allusion to this childhood board game and use it as a metaphor as I
see it for life’s peaks and valleys so inserted -brilliant in my interpretation of this poem.
I appreciate your interest in my work!