February 9

February 9th 2016

Magpie’s warbling

Sifting in with the dawn glow-

Curl closer to me

 

Sometimes

Sometimes I forget

How sweet this can be.

How much the softest skin

And the light across a pliant hip,

And the swell of her lips,

Smiling,

Is poetry to me.

She is

Wiser than the night

And twice as fierce.

She is the soft caress of silken winds

And the sun,

When it is missed.

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