persephone | sonnet seven posted by imani , Friday, February 12, 2010 at 11:26 AM, in Labels: ars poetica

the clouds heaved a sigh, the sound of
sheer alacrity, the hours spin to form
the rain of your delight, to drench
my fumbling ideas and the flint of

my words ~ let me walk through
the sleeping circles, let me forget
the blood of my desolation
let me drown in the pure sadness of your eyes

and as the soil wither and erode
like my heart parched by yellow sunbursts
the stars hover above, pulsating, slowly

diminishing into endless flames, disguised
as trembling flowers envious of your smile,
the ancient, faultless language of our souls.