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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required My cocoon tightens –colors tease I am feeling for the air A dim capacity for wings Demeans the dress I wear 1099 - Emily Dickinson Butterfly- A Glosa My potential, held in a chrysalis, I hide within a shadowed niche, safe from mischief and the curious, time stands still for my strange seed. Buds of my wings, flimsy as flowers, grow from leaf nectar with ease. In grub miasma I am geometry concealed; a rainbow of speckles secretly forming in tiny degrees. My cocoon tightens- colors tease. Outside a gentle, scented atmosphere, stirs memories of my once, segmented self, sucked to wind tossed leaves, green of their green, protected by dapple; a puzzle of leafy camouflage. I gorged there, naked and bare, then wove around me a fine cocoon, I was the spinner, and the loom, quietly suspended now I must dare. I am feeling for the air. I am feeling for the sun, cell by cell, a squeezing permutation diligently shedding grub matter. A framework, a pattern, a nectar tongue coiled for long throats of flowers to come, poised for pastoral whisperings I struggle to unfold. A magic, a beauty stunningly brief, I hold, like all mystical things, a dim capacity for wings. My feelers, living dopplers’ vibrate I shimmer, transparent gossamer. I gather energy, I tremble for flight, I tumble with garden blest wings. A brief portrayal of immortal life, is part of the nature I bear. I flitter, I flutter I seem to be aimless, a symbol of ever-returning things. Only the fragile and delicate flower, demeans the dress I wear. For Line’s “ A Stunner 2017 Contest The Glosa is a Spanish form based on taking 4 lines by another poet and expanding the theme. I have entered this in 3 or more contests and was NA’d EVERY time. Applicable Not Applicable Contests Contest Judged: 6/2/2019 2:03:00 PM Sponsored by: Richard Lamoureux Placed 3rd
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