Aire Kingdom
The way stretches forward, the infinity path
Every shape well defined, by the certainty of math
Great ferns surround, curved in huge Fibonacci arcs
While trees, gods of forest, are discontinuities in bark
The air is still and it's gentle touch oddly cool
And a visiting writer would lie about a pool
And a nymph. Or a vast Aire kingdom on high:
Beauty's present as the trees, though concealed from the sky
I followed her here, for where else would she dwell
Not hidden away in some black and white cell
The most perfect line, shaping me and my soul
Once my love now my breath, my quest takes a great toll
This cool jungle is our home as I try to define her:
I'm a textbook on the harm of obsession's spur.
Copyright © Grace Williams | Year Posted 2012
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