Fire and Ice

As dawn sets fire to the rolling hills
she awakens with a slow yawn.
She lifts her head to the rising sun -
its rays warm upon her delicate skin.
So fragile, her innocent beauty.
Her petals dew kissed, as though by a lover;
glimmer like a thousand tiny diamonds, and
dance a ballet with the gentle breeze.
Her delicate blossoms gracefully unfold,
casting an aromatic elixir upon the air.
Bees lazily sway - drunk from her nectar.
Now, with the coming of dusk, her head slowly bows,
she grows thin as she weeps.
Her petals float upon the wind, dancing along
those rolling hills; all that she is, slowly drifting out of sight.




Poetry by Doreen Cavazza
Read 730 times
Written on 2010-03-21 at 15:07

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Rex Panthera
scenic, alive and beautiful. As always, an excellent piece of poetry.
2010-04-11


Charlie
Such a beautiful poem. Charlie
2010-03-21