© G. V. 08-18-2013, All Rights Reserved(Iambic hexameter)
It was the twenty first of January and cold
a thinnest rain was whipping, needle-like to hurt,
she stood across the mirroring of nightly mold
relentless icy raindrops fell from skies to Earth
How argent the details became, though in my glance
two distant waxen lights saluted to entice -
- "behold my soul because the night's eluding dance
invites the gazing travelers to fade on ice."
And then my thought reshaped two passengers to pair
amid that solitude and needle-stinging rain,
details to spin the gyroscopic lift and flare
across the road evolved to melody's refrain.
The rainfall was transformed to skyward route and mirth
concourse of invitations to invite me from
perceived time's borderlands that mirrored my life's worth,
descending droplets hit upon the screens to thrum.
Continuum of silver flight, in blue midair,
beloved of winter she became, betrothal grace,
rain's queen enthroned she was across the night and fair,
her laughter fled above cold January's embrace.
© G. V. 08-18-2013 All rights reserved