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The beautiful
| Open Poetry #45 |
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The beautiful |
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Honeybunch Member Rara Avis
since 2001-12-29
Posts 7115South Africa 
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No snowflakes fall to overlay the truth of who we are and yet there is a shroud thick, heavy, and so dense that grants unto the beautiful the semblance of a grave. And when there are no snowflakes no one thinks to clear away mortal imperfections and facilitate the rise of the buried but not dead. So the beautiful lies comatose awaiting the awakened to brave the elements like a determined warrior. But we are lovers, are we not? Out fighting spirit tackles nought but flesh and bone, muscle, fat, and what we say and do. And then I don’t like you, and you and you and you, until I am possessed of tools to dismiss the now imperfect. And then I still don’t like you, and you and you and you, for in the clear and sweep away the beautiful is not always appealing to my eyes. But you, “the” you, unknowingly rose unaided into view and in that moment of glory I fell in love with you ~ but then you disappeared back into the grave. So the beautiful lies buried, lost, to ne’er again rise from the grave and stand naked before the eyes of a woman who loves … the beautiful! Helen / 23 December 2009 |
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| © Copyright 2009 Helen - All Rights Reserved | |||
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