I Wonder Why

I wonder why these fingers dance
To toil upon blank bare skin
To seek out virtue and true form
Laid open wide a cataclysmic storm

Like Keats who died for love and then
Came forth to move the world's expanse
Unearthing reason, rhyme, and metaphor
Though my fingers long for more;

I wish her skin would ache for me
Pouring forth sweet ecstasy

© Raymond t. Carter 1999