Sonja Broderick - Bodhran Man

Your head kisses softly the wood
Slurps the spittle of dreams
Trailed like entangled slug juice
All the way down her curved slide.
Your hands gently wield the baton
Make tribal chieftain sounds
On the pelt.
So softly your eyebrows dance
On every third beat.
All the singular music makers blend
Into one clear sound of mists in the air.
Your courteous request to join
Has made the ring complete.
Hugging her close
You tip home the final rhythms.
You come away
To wipe the love-spit left
From your musical sleep.

Sonja Broderick

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/bodhran-man/