Her Whim, His Prayer

Her Whim, His Prayer (Tale of the Muse)

 

She sits light in a corner,

melodically gushing superfluously fluent colours and kisses,

painting him a picture,

infusing a wish of vibrant hues into his eyes,

whilst crafting webs of verse and vanity.

 

With slight of hand,

she gives to him words that all poets live for,

and the orchestra plays……

 

A musical flush, a swing of the hips,

rainbows and emotions blasting cerebral walls and ceilings,

her arms wafting and waving into his every crevice of thought,

clearing his every blocked neurological stream,

releasing letters and smiles by the thousand,

until his poetry desire is restored in tears rolling soft toward the corner she sits,

marta1

 

© Nick Hawkins all poetry rights reserved 2015

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