Another of those peached mornings ,
Peachy, taffy, blushed pinks of betrayals.
morning glossy dews, wedded lush turf
Glistening of tiny pearl drops, sun-kissed .
Blemished with streaks of shades ;
Hues of the seven chronicles
engraved into minute glass prisms.
a little affection , and they fade
bursting away into the arms
of non existence ...
Delicate, mellow shards of nature
quite alluring to the naked eyes .
I sit there idle, fingers ruining those
precious, musk blooms ,pellucid pearls;
Splattered across the uneven .
Mellifluos breeze brushes a strand
of my deep walnut waves
I let it all Swayed, a mess of my
own intent and distinction.
Weaving crowns of smiling wild daisies
Twisting its leaves ,stems --- I frowned.
I no longer needed them!, indulging reverie
reminiscences of a garden fairy's magical essence, raveling untold stories of
the prickly spring breeze, a little late !
Just to make myself feel
more of life, its tenderness
in the bare, brazen, barrens
of an unending illusory.
