Twelfth Handmaid
Glints of stardust drip of winter's essence
as frills of Sagittarian ornaments
ring in the birth of a cycle
flickering with the tempo
of mid-December’s equinox: she is
the twelfth month; the last goddess of angels,
kindling seraphic night passages
and fireplaces robed in leaves
of serenity and thawing roses...
phrase by phrase, page for page, arm in arm
with a hymnal litany,
the goddess of laced winds glides
on an altar of sacred eyes and lips,
chanting about gods, children ,and love.
Inhabiting a residence in grotto white,
she holds iced lanterns and dahlias
to unfurl a season's finesse...
O angel of twelfth handmaid,
time will sing her ripened hope, her celestial rhyme
to revel in a tender parade
of flakes only evening's quilt can ever wrap.
Angel of the twelfth handmaid,
half- luminous, twice-content
virtues pure will encircle halo's Light, amen!
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