All Poetry

Awakening.

A mare among king’s chariots,
a lily amidstย the thorns,
She is a dove hidden in cleft of rocks
sheltered fromย the morn.

But castย one glance uponย herย eyes,ย 
and spice flows forth with wakened winds.
Come my love, toย my field, he says,
Rise up and come within.

Liftedย are plaits of ornaments
that shieldedย scars beneath.
Rentย is the veil that guardedย her
fromย vulnerabilities unsheathed.

She is a cluster of henna flowers
denuded by theย Foehn,
A hearthย dimmed, itsย fire quenched,
withinย which embersย now burn.

โ€ข

19 replies »

  1. This is a lovely, word-gorgeous poem, Phoebe! Sorry I haven’t been checking in for a while but I’ve been trying to get some fiction (longer stories) completed. I must say I’m loving your FB posts — and I not only click “like” but actually READ them, too (I’m always interested in health). Thanks for sharing those. And thank you for writing this poem. ๐Ÿ™‚

      • You’re most welcome, Phoebe! The writing is going well, but tomorrow I start a temp online job that’s probably going to cut into my writing and blogging time for the next month. But I’ll enjoy reading your posts and your highly informative FB posts! Have a great week — hugs to you and Sam! ๐Ÿ™‚

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