Solitary-Poet

Butterflies, shades of heaven,

Floating petals of roses,

All colors stirred together,

A heavenly potion,

Mixed leisurely and lovingly,

By a mistress of angels.

 

Stroking with bejeweled hands,

Adding shades of sky, earth,

and passages between,

gardens of redemption,

On each petal-like wing,

One butterfly at a time.

 

Slowly whispering a kiss with

Similar colored lips,

Releasing it into the ethereal sunlight,

Slicing with its rays,

Through the gentle morning dew

Settled on a slowly waking garden.

 

Gentle breeze, flows over,

Plays its Harmony

A cold touch, a tingling pinch,

Gently taps its way,

Reaches from the tips of feet.

 

Swirls around each painted toe,

Twitches, shivers, shudders,

Then whimsically floats,

Reaches northwards,

Journeys through valleys and mountains.

 

Dances onto the butterfly petaled

Colored crimson lips

Holding their sweet breath

Aching, waiting, little closed

Yet open, as to say,

Nothing but everything.

 

Gentle parting of lips,

Silent aching words, unspoken,

Colors flow gently, whisper,

With rainbow like raindrops.

 

Mistress of angels,

Quietly moves, sighs,

Lays into the gentle morning

Garden awakens and blooms,

Butterflies stir, throwing color

With their petal-like wings,

Crimson lips do come closer,

Dare to but never touch,

Move slowly away,

Leaving the delusion of a kiss,

In a lover’s heart.