Homeland

steven wynne apple
I stretch my hand across my eyes

And touch the grassy plains;

Endless delights of sighted pleasure,

I relish the hills and peaks.

The salt of land I taste to satisfy

Longing, loneliness, need;

I cry aloud a moan of ecstasy,

Passion is life's antecedent.

To feel the best of love and warmth,

I settle here with serenity.

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