“A poet is a nightingale, who sits in darkness and sings to cheer its own solitude with sweet sounds.” -Percy Bysshe Shelley
Friday, January 13, 2017
tiny affirmations
Yes
I said, opening the door.
In he came with a crooked smile
his eyes down cast-
my feet-
bare
and stood
there-
I facing him.
with first blinks and a rub of my eyes-
Don't-said he-quickly-his hand
fingering the silky nude rose
pink petals, curled tips and
composed in the tiny crystal vase.
Get up-See-'Tis better to Dream-Always.
Says he, with a warm flannel smile
(around me).
Yes,
I slept a while-
yes, it felt so good.
I don't know if I dreamt
or what it meant that my
pillow smelt so sweet and pink
like tiny crystals, maybe leaves...
Yes,
was the first word
awake.
And It was good.
Image of painting by Frederic Leighton [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons, Flaming June (1895).
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