She's So High

Cloud-foe, she havocs

ferns and fritillaries

from August to autumn.

 

Lily of the labyrinth,

mischief-maker,

she anthems dusk,

plucks the harp of dawn.

 

Supple dancer,

heaven-minded,

she pirouettes

down malls and halls,

insouciant and free.

 

Moon-coin,

spendless silver,

she heals all wounds

with her light.

 

Songbird, skylark,

she makes music

against the scowl of now.





Poetry by Thomas DeFreitas The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 82 times
Written on 2018-11-13 at 09:57

dott Save as a bookmark (requires login)
dott Write a comment (requires login)
dott Send as email
dott Print text




Cheeky and so full of charm.
2nd verse my absolute favourite!
2018-11-25


Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Oh, this is some first-class skylarking. I believe Mr. Thomas would have been impressed.
2018-11-13