A breath of life exhales the warmth of spring. She stands, pale skin, voluptuous bosom, A tunic hides the mortal form she brings. She is the seasons of this fragile world.
Emotions fill her and lust burns from her, Heating everything she has created, Inflaming all with wanton need and blur. Her solar power rages at its peak.
Wind and Earth caress her womanly form. They seduce her, satisfying desires. Her deadly fires cool to a gentle warm As she sheds her tunic revealing flesh.
She lays herself softly on the cooled ground, A worn form covered in so much color That her gentle passing is uncrowned As her final breath exhales Winter’s death.
From the author of Jupiter Remembered and Until It’s Time: Embracing Life In Our Later Years comes Petals of Love: Poetry of a Woman’s Soul – a heartfelt collection spanning more than thirty-five years. Through tender reflections, these poems offer g
Robin Ouzman Hislop's poetry is certainly in dialogue with some of the key architects of the 'poetics of indeterminacy' – both the Modernist strands represented by the likes of Beckett and Stein, and the postmodernist strands represented, initially,
Blessings,
Joyce Bowling just another writer from Kentucky...
Regis
Love Tinka