photo/ magpie tales/ tess kincaid
This enigmatic photo posed a bit of a challenge ...I'm so late this week to feel the spark!! No one ever said Mag would be easy. Thanks, Tess....
DREGS
A candle's beam
illuminates the goblet,
as I swirl a plea into the wine.
I hear a moth's whisper,
watch it fly into its fate.
Tiny wings float,
mix with vintage tears,
cheap wine.
Tastes like the Red Sea
before the parting.
copyright/all rights reserved/ 2011
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photo/ willow/ magpie tales
PORTAL
Some fly at night.
I like to fly in the morning.
Some mistake me for a moth
just because I linger at the flame.
But as soon as the door
swings open, I'm seen,
a nymph, to amuse or alarm.
A beam of light,
from the open portal,
shines through my wings,
today the color of peridot,
green as a neon bud,
lucent and shedding
angel dust.
I've lingered long enough
without identity,
first a ghost of hopeless prospects,
then a minor Satyress,
sitting on the edge of beds,
urging lover's arms
to enfold the air in which I float,
before they choose the damsel.
A rosary of names
hangs round my neck
and the wind will whisper
the one I am.
Someone will choose
to call out to me
when they pray
to Heaven for help.
c copyright/all rights reserved/ 2010
What a terrific Prompt this week from Willow. Please read all the other's who've written their excellent posts!
http://www.minblu.blogspot.com/
http://twitter.com/lynxny
