Poetry

My aunt was asked to read a poem at a coffee morning this Monday so she phoned me looking for a few of mine to choose from. As I transcribed some of my words, I remembered the utter joy of poetry. Here’s one I wrote a few years ago…

The Catcher

Give her beauty and passion

and she sparks into flight

like a butterfly on acid

throwing light with her wings.

Oh how she casts rainbows

in the tears that spill

and plucks golden harps

of melodious laughter.

Her fires blaze in the hot eyes

of a fervent lover

while pleasure drops in sweat

like pearls.

She lurks amongst the Autumn leaves

gurgles in a virgin stream and

leaps off purple mountain peaks.

I see her fall with the whispering mists

and rise on the coin of sunshine.

Dizzily spinning beside moon and stars,

her silhouette rides angry clouds

that rage against the tranquil skies.

She swoops through many foreign lands

stealing romance and sweet aromas

then feeds me words not yet understood.

Forever roaming the ocean

glancing at corners

urgently probing for

just one sliver of poetry

to cover the silence

of this naked page

and awaken the butterflies

so I don’t plunge

into darkness.

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