...Seems the forth coming morn
rises with daubs of misting dew
welcoming gloaming transformations
from here to high waters rooting deep
unearthing awareness to witness rebirth
through obscuring clouded shelters unseen...
Death's sable wild stallion stands proud
mane and braids liberating warrior's freedom
rearing mightly with hooves sharpening girth
as a triumphant militant warrior hails stance
the commanding swords and banneret flags fly...
...I know the scorpions titter within stillness
as eyes of visionaries seeing through thickets
reaching to acknowledge occipital essence
the skull is overseeing as mantels to fire...
The earth is cloaked within thorn's sanguine beauty
surrounded by unseen ivy canvasing brindled quills
as the pheasant camouflaged with eyes of knoll peers
serpentine's chain reveals the purity of snow on roses stem...
(Written: June 26th, 2010 4:29 p/m)
© Poetess Victoria L. McColley