An Ode To Small Comforts On a Rainy Afternoon

Bloom! Bloom! O! This evermore wintry tide Whisper litanies, wondrous lullaby, Caress skins in that comely way you ride Marvels of seasoned rind of litany; As you march avidly, a lone Magi Desert of roofs blend, your trusty drummers Quench their arid taste, dust tongues scream, twist, prancing About. Cadence of words dry Like fire throat, miles ran, visage of radar Bridge and brace me to hearken, phone ringing! Like the soft warmth that never try to hide Of noon-lake, a swift cut of knife sharply Through yam, perfect sequence of each slide, Slices of ease drop, manna fall creamy Upon eyelids-vertigo turn up sly. I’m butterfly, cocooned in your fingers, Spell the craze of disturbed markets racing. Noxious nostrils, cold nigh To spill chilly globules, tobacco tars Ebb cursive; somnolent steps receding. Now I am soft like tender foliage wide To stark sun rays, woman splayed, slippery. Rapture, I incline to your meshed inside Grant that laughter of a nude history Where specters feast, their bliss and empty sigh; Anodyne rings of mirth with diameter Copious, contempt of your feet pattering; So my answer is wry. Louse, I latch to the phone, sweet chat linger Till rain cast her nest; am I lost dreaming? First Place in Cyndi Macmillan's Contest.