Passing the grains of rivers
mothered by the your sun,
tossed copper wind and shores rail
inch by inch--
meter by meter--
they drift along of a violet dayfall.
And glittering borealis slopes
on emblazoned hem;
until land, sea, air and dazed fire,
wrap the colors of your grasses;
as a hundred villages await
the first notes
of your opening sonata;
a tingle from a raw desire
circling a bonfire of wildflowers,
in heat like a maiden, restless!
Open Poetry Contest
Charlotte Jade Puddifoot
Copyright © Leon Datu | Year Posted 2015
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