[Soaring Feather]

In reedy marshes
I amuse my muse
I let her imagine
she is wise to
ways of lovers on
grassy plains
in cool oasis waters
she draws water
from desert wells
and bathes in
oriental spices to
tempt the winds

in the temple her
reflection in oils
awaken drowsy lovers
they reach for her
tanned scented body
lay before her poppies
attar of roses
scarlet sunsets
and romance

she imagined herself
in sedimentary blues
and grassland greens
adorning a tan linear temple
thinking i would
be softened
by her careful carasses

she was
right

bentfeather ©
2003



Memories of written words
I have none, only tattered bits
of paper kept in a fireproof box

I do not own the words
only the pen must flow
to write of tears dreams
love pies, hollow times
in the barren years...

bentfeather ©
2003

[Soaring Feather]

Diamonds shine
in nite skies
your eyes
often have the same
reflective quality

I have tried to avoid
the look in overcast skies
when your corn flower blue eyes
come into contact with my
glacier blues
I freeze you out
you blink from the
depth of ice you see in me

bentfeather