A Whisper
Expelling breath, pursed softly love,
My sibilant tongue expounds the phrase,
Of Eden found and feathered words,
Flown weather thieved. Carried on
A nomad breeze, perhaps to die
Unheeded upon the lake shore
Mud flats. Or picked apart by
Cormorant beaks and swallowed down,
Digested in an acid tract composed
Of oil and water gulped. Or sonar burn
An aural canal, drilled, drizzled
Raindrop patterns sizzled course
Through natural pathways, morse and air
To crystalise the creeping smile that
Other eyes decipher not;
Creating your cognisant guise
A Mona Lisa semblance.
Copyright © Tony Bush | Year Posted 2005
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