Feathered Dahlias
It was the middle of September sapphires
When I had noticed the new born rain
Casting out from the drumming thunder
An echo grievous upon the unspoken pain
Where the broken hearts repeatedly gather
Haunting their selves among the darkled muse
Dancing erratically with ostrich feathered dahlias
And other evoking mysteries to tritely confuse
Amidst the selective sifting of riddling moments
I eagerly helped her set fire to her scarring pain
Where I had noticed she was often silently weeping
Calmed by a healing kiss within this new found rain
Metaphorical Poet Victoria L. McColley
Ron
This is stunningly beautiful poetry. So much going on I have missed being here at the den. So good to read you again!
Have a wonderful weekend
Peace love and light
Amber
Turpentine & old whiskey, skinny jeans and new cowgirl boots you ordered,
Yours xoxo
Who is Victoria's meta for?
Us.
budd