A Soft Silky Breeze
Light winds danced with tall trees.
Bare branches swayed in a slow harmony as
roots spread during an opus of a crispy moon.
Frosted leaves lay in gathering heaps;
victims of the equinox and winter’s dearth.
I communed with fairies upon a branch;
never argue with them while the lunar orb is high
lest you become lost on a path to nowhere.
I sang a hymn to the winter queen; hastily
a snowflake gently kissed my cheek.
Twas cool but savory, like first passions on lovers lane.
Her breath seemed real and tasted sweet in darkness.
The full moon was hanging like a slice of fresh lemon.
An epiphany created in the mind of Van Gogh.
Some, wrapped in dark cloaks, prayed to their goddess.
Peace finally returned to a cool, bewildered forest.
I simply sat quietly in a soft silky breeze.
Copyright © Ken Allan Dronsfield | Year Posted 2022
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