She moves through sunrise and starlight
Binding the air like fire
Her every footstep a new morning
A distant choir sung higher
She is draped in jasmine, robed in gold
Emeralds envy her radiance
Her glance a heartbeat on flight
Her thoughts are the light of heaven
Her heart a brazen vault
The world may be tumbling, raging
But in her, I am caught
She is wild like horses, running bold
Angels mirror her dance
With her, I walk, jump, run upright
Together, we wage through battles
For her, I lay down my life
If I should fall, she'll raise a banner
To tell the world she's my...
Goodnight.
About the Creator
Daniel Cole
Author and artist, I'm finding my spirit again late in life. Old passions for poetry borne of love, loss, hope and pain, things with which everyone is familiar.
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Clinging to Childhood
The playground is empty, as it should be past sundown. There is a warm breeze, and I can see everything despite the late hour. What time is it, anyway? It could very well be past midnight. I can never keep track of time, especially in the summer. A prickly piece of popcorn hides like a stowaway in the left cup of my padded training bra. I stuffed the tissue in last minute— a decision I’m beginning to regret, based on the events that are unfolding rapidly before me. To my left, laying non-chalantly on his back, is my date for the evening. He is two years older, could probably grow facial hair if he wanted to, and drives a secondhand Honda. He may as well be a Man. I, on the other hand, feel like a fraud with my too-short short-shorts, sparkly lip gloss, and makeshift push-up bra. I keep my arms pinned to my sides as I feel the dreaded circles of sweat beginning to manifest on my brand new Abercrombie top. I cup my elbows with my hands and stare down at my hint of cleavage, praying that the tissue doesn’t pop out like a white flag surrendouring my lack of womanhood.
By Marti Maley7 days ago in Fiction
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