a bouquet …
exquisitely exquisite
like naught else on this gilded planet
blooming on tender branches
supple and swaying
‘una flor fragante’
silken and sweet
pink petals open to entice … entirely
it’s lilt, aromatic
whirls thoughts like an eggbeater into
a carnal chaos
it’s synergy directing a
divine dermal dissolution of discretion
bane of the omnipotent
the fearless turned fools for its magic …
and madness …
inviolate or prurient
it has made kings out of paupers
twisted wills to wars
spun orbs on their axes
and made the universe of unions
ache for its aspect
the imperfect perfection of its
bewildering allurement
and the satiny seduction of
it’s beguiling floret -
the flower …
feminine.
( photographic art created copyright-free by the author with GALA AI software )
I have a new short story called “eggbeater” - if you’re interested. =]
It;s about a helicopter ride (my first).
It was slightly too long for the poems section.
So this is an add, of sorts.
Since you’re here a corona joke:
Remember when we all used to eat cake after someone blew on it?
I popped out of a pink egg carton on a fine Monday morn.
Entered an eggbeater contest, ended tattered and torn.
Drank egg cream, did the most marvelous egg dance.
Started to England and ended up in a chateau in France.
Had a swig of fancy eggnog, Italy is where I landed.
Turned into an exaggerated egg-atic, sneaky, devious, and underhanded.
< halloween haunting's
black shoe polish foundation
ruby red lipstick
pillow stuffed under big dress
red white bandana for hair
spatula in hand
eggbeater in dress pocket
pillowcase for loot
daddy's boots causing blisters
aunt jemima memories
Entry For
Paula Sweanson's
Halloween Of Tears Past
GL AL
Tribute To Childhood Memories
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