Soft Caress
.
Oh yes
so like the feathered being
I
perched ‘pon the roof
with ink and slip
missed naught
The breeze
the sun's soft caress
yes
even the tricklets of dew
tenderly setting ‘pon mine slip
from
the long pause from write
as mine eyes did gaze
( fortuitously)
through her pane
Unquestionably
I was intrigued with the
unveiling
yet
it was her preparing
which moved this pen
yes
hern prime
for
Spring
Copyright © James Peranteau | Year Posted 2011
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