delights in lemon; yellows and gold
no brawny
epitome of prophecy, in sunshine.
daylight
randomness of her existence
mostly kept
yet everyone’s caught sight
***
What I Would Have Shown You
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Tag Archives: Flower
Little
Terrified
Every single day
Is a struggle
I cannot
Explain
I’ll need him
When I wake from this nightmare
Spirited
She shines among them,
strongest of petals, feared.
Proud of who she is,
beauty of her spirit, revealed. Confidence will outshine,
Those who needed to see,
her fail.
Disregard
Please don’t ignore
My heart
This love
Accessible and exposed
Without first
Commanding me
To leave.
Until then,
I am yours.
Experience
It’s petals laying crossways,
My grandmother always said,
Notice their ruffled beauty,
Across the body, throughout her head.
The heart will lead us,
Paths rarely fond easy, and
With moments of dread.
However, trust
You’ll make it through,
The alternative is dead.
Most Intimately
lays her heart
most intimately
before you,
softness
a gift,
this blush on her form,
a part of who she is
but when you touch her
the perfection becomes yours
Essentia
powdered in pale pink
tranquility becomes her
touch depreciates
New
flush, is her flower
timid, yet she’ll grow.
ruddy, her spirit,
and you adore
how it’s shown.
innocence is her
mind’s essence,
full beauty yet to be shown.
Devotion
for today
what could be
waits for a spark,
her sparkle, really.
the marrow of her sigh,
born of her bashful smile,
is one he committed to memory,
unsure of how soon it would return.
Wanting It More
to fall in love
it’s meant to be that way
to become the muse
the light to their day,
a star located
among millions
far brighter,
chosen for reasons
lost on many,
becoming the final piece
to a complicated mind’s frenzy.
much to be learned,
watched and adored,
realizing you’re not the one,
will make you want it
that much more.
***
Belle
reflections of self
causes me to see
I’m not her
will never be.
fairytale lesson
heard, and told again
and again,
little girl, listen!
full skirt of amerillo,
beauty incomparable
obvious,
she’s Belle
and he: her beast
there is no you
in their story.
My
if it were permitted: a luxury of my own doing
I would escort you
into my womb
allow you to discern upon
where you so expertly travel
point to where you linger
taking ownership
of my most sacred bounds
Expectation
just let her
in shades of pink
born of maturity
a gift, rooted deep
simple offerings
puddles of water her drink
sun kissed
displayed, considered a weed
country worn
she, rarely what you think
Willingly
Shy, her shield,
Sparkling eyes never quite reaching
Those who find her,
Bashful, worn with grace,
Her words now yours
May be timidly drawn,
For those who deserve,
But written upon the skin
With wanton fingertips
For those who capture
Her touch, heart, her mind
And recognize the tingle
She causes
And willingly provides
Goddess of the Dawn
his Eos,
stunning muse,
white feathers
when used as a pen
write of her
his parchment stained
with her tears of dew
***
Please excuse my absence. I’m 10,000 feet up where the air is thin and crisp. I’m at peace this morning. Life. Love. Mountains. Enjoy your moments. They go so quickly.
Fearless Maiden
midsummer maiden
slipping into apricot
chest out, confident
Brave Face
breath, fact of the living
our exhale, evidence of continuing
tears acknowledge loss, possibly
smile supports prosperity
brave face endures them all
Maiden In Rouge
disheveled vision
midnight deluge survivor
warrior’s maiden
