Visions to behold # 5
I'll be away for a few days. Maybe 10 or so... I'll miss you all, and I apologize in advance for any delay in responding to your messages or returning your comments and favorites. I'll do my best to catch up with you all as soon as I return... Till then enjoy this new feature and please show your love and appreciation to the artists by visiting and favoring their works. They all deserve it!
The artists featured here have been listed in no particular order
Love you all
Bone Blossoms:thumb363164323: :thumb360737444: :thumb360178635: :thumb363629743: :thumb361704823: :thumb362088212: :thumb363854267:
a ghost of iris-
blue so pale,
it slips off the page
You know the scent;
you borrowed it
from some girl
who was your best friend.
You slept together in the same bed;
she borrowed your sweater
and kissed you
when mother was not looking.
You fed her books
left out in the sun,
ripe as the boy
She put her hand
one warm night
and asked you
what it made you think of.
you said -
teal and purple,
feathered like summer -
like the summer
when you were five
and the heat
just could not keep away
and the sky went out.
Deep in the stillness,
I wander but a ghost thru mists of shadow & sanguine ..
And the trees bathe in the mystique of Night’s serenade
Covet thee my love immortal,
for we are hunters of a dream untamed;
poetry bleeding into the abyss ...
Candle whispers drink a sky of wine, unto where I sojourn —
in the caress of your lips, and ache of darkest Moon
— Arthur Crow © 2013
Printemps / SpringCe matin la neige:thumb356072794: :thumb347899094:
a lavé l'or de
This morning the snow
washed the gold of thy
Version II by Nikki:
When morning came
snow drenched the gold of
Between the Moth and the FlameMoth-like we dance metaphors around each other,:thumb363062825:
the flames beguile with serpentine smiles
and I wonder if I am any better,
my secrets flounder in veils of smoke.
Desperately yearning for a touch,
but with wings so delicate how can we dare?
You leave behind the powdered snow of love,
flaking away upon my fingertips,
but then where would you be?
(trapped inside the glass jar we constructed in fear and fragility)
(I wonder is my love such camphor?)
And there is the fire that would tear me away
with such masculine heat,
dare I resist?
(your gentleness I know is hard-edged, but he comes as a tour de force)
I struggle between myself
caught betwixt iron and feathers
(I know how you consume my thoughts)
but he begins to shed shadows
and lingers in precarious, inconspicuous places.
So I will dangle as a pendulum
held barely by a delectable thread of carnivorous silk
which may at any moment give way
and pitch me forth.
(will your satin wings, untouched be enough to catch me?)
(or will I b
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