poem

Oh God, Oh God, I hear your voice,
a thumping thumping in,
Were every beat does bodly note,
the want and fear of men.
A closeness sound, of moan and shake,
that swells my blood but where?
For sweat and strike, and beat it does,
with every gasp of air.
But beat it is, and beat it must,
and noise it does procure,
but sadder is the gentle heart,
for don't the wretch endure?
With thump and pump, a rise and fall,
were each is in its turn,
A raceful sound, of blood to slake,
for which we trump and burn.
For as the heart does thumping quake,
and feign a mute desire,
Oh where, Oh where, your voice does sound,
if not my chamber's fire?

w.c., 02 February 2007