Tinkerbell
She gathering berries amid the meadow fair
Bare, of white milk curves and the mountains
Clear their views, as but to gaze from that afar..
Golden strings in powder blue, skies strumming
Harps and silverish wings; trickling sweet red juice
Trails of delight, making way from the corners lovely
Her glistening beautiful lips while a butterfly descends
With joyful bashful eyes; soft her kiss, upon love's cheek.
Copyright © Rachel St.Cross | Year Posted 2012
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment