She is the cloud’s savior (coming
like silver linings across a long, and desolate sky);
a violet’s heaven (watching
her purple, while guiding the steps of eager spring feet
away, from the un-noticed)
screaming down like rain upon lipped petals, crying,
“See them! See them!” until
the clouds break, and all there is (and ever has been) to see
is violet against the obvious
and swanky, green border. She is the revealer of truths
through the art of the subtle
fragrance of blunt words, colors, and fruits from her
delectable, ever sprouting vine.
This one’s for you, Miss Stacey Haislop – a prized jewel
on the crown of poetic royalty.
© Kristin Reynolds 5 18 09
WE LOVE YOU, STACE!