Gypsy Flora
First light and her shadows angle silent, long as the crawling ivy
Tuck themselves away beneath, underworld of stem and leaf
My eyes so cold afrost, fall like flake or feathers lost, upon the yawning flowered garden
Up from yonder down a trelis, holding onto lasting breaths
Whilst my heart's love unspoiled like a buried treasure hidden
Wandering around my metaphoric dark, I gaze onto wilds, meadows of another life
Sun drops her drizzle, trickles shooing dews of remnant way
And the rising ball o fire's falsetto braises ends of petals silk and lace
But why does thunder strike not once but twice even thrice and on
Pierce as morning rays inward to reveal tis place which I thought to have been erased
To render hours faster, passing seasons after, leaving all instilled behind
And watch transfixed upon the dance of a single gypsy flora
Whos flutters velvet wings waltzing amidst palettes de pandora
Writhes and rhythms weaving in and out of dreams betwixt its currents
Resurrecting the yearns of man for chance, thus to be
As the innocence of tender grass beyond this stained glass window
Wearing clouds of happiness atop my head
Swaying with the she spirit of elements of independence
Copyright © Michael Smith | Year Posted 2012
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