Thursday, October 02, 2003

Through the Grapevine

Poetry rests upon the earth
among the beads of silkened dew
covered by the viney growth
awaiting the hour of moon's descent.
At the touch of sun's warm rays
against the face of the dormant sky
life begins to stir beneath
the bed where Poetry did sleep.

The drops of dew are guided down
from leaves that stretch their fingers out
to catch and hold the stirring wind
that races through the twisted veil.
Milky clouds go quietly by
waltzing with stiff legged blades
of grass that stand alert and stern
to guard the dance of Poetry.

Poetry does walk amidst
the grapevines climbing playfully
to kiss the fruit upon each branch
and taste the sweetness of new life.

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