Half-breed, Cherokee
in the gourd,
Half-breed, German,
Irish in Deutsch-Celt accord,
bringing herself ritual offering,
brushing feathers across her open lips,
grinding cornmeal under her rhythmic hips,
rekindling ancestral fires, her native heritage,
genuine, leaving it deep in anticipated impression,
singing inside her wide expression, the song coming
from also a half-breed Cherokee woman who's been
inside her, giving her headdress, the sensual lure,
a stirring performance, shaking, long plumes come loose, breathless whisper looms,
Half-breed, Cherokee in the gourd,
in the midnight hour, all she can afford,
she opens the bundle and hands the sacred
object to her,
beautiful, prominent, regular features, clear
complexion, long silken blond-black hair,
hazel-blue eyes, they play the fire hot and damn dare,
Cherokee calendar marked with initial cries.
Copyright 2006 Sage Sweetwater, firebrand lesbian novelist, brainchild of Sage Sweetwater Creative Properties, flagship of Stone Creek Woman
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Beautifully sensual, delightful poetry!
(((HUGS))) and love, Karla.
Paul;-)
and your poem stirs something, too, in this Indian soul.
You shoulda been a temple priestess in an acient time, Sage,
for you burn, burn, burn.... and not just the incense, babe!
I can't tell you how I feel about this poem. Not HERE anyway.
All of my love for you, my SAGE. It's peachy, baby.
You transcend the religious and cultural barriers in this amazing and mesmerizing composition..
You will always be a star, because you believe in yourself and the Goddess with firm and unwavering conviction !
God bless you Sage
You are apprecited by this man !
Love and Blessings
Peter
Regis