Barter

A new poem.

Barter

What shall I barter for your kiss?
A look, a word, a prayer just heard
at the edge of your awareness?
Shall I play at the earnest suitor
or calculate, like a computer,
the most direct path to your arms?

What shall I barter for your smile?
A thought, a phrase, a parted haze
in problems that perplex and hex your day?
Would you have me play the fool
or command, as one whose rule
is absolute, the necessity of your joy?

What shall I barter for your bed?
A vow, a dream, a crown of gold
hammered from ores I've dug with my own hands?
Hands of metal made precious
not by their market value
but by their evidence of an honest heart?

What shall I barter for your years?
My kiss, my smile, my bed and more
as means to capture and keep this dark lightning?
Amomancies bright and blessed
that curl and swirl to form a pearl
that you may wear as evidence of me?

William F. DeVault. all rights reserved.