Sunday, March 13, 2011

Sometime in Winter

Seafoam banquette,
The plush, the lulling nap,
The velvet cove we were tucked in,
Bolstered with bronzed silk brocade,
Buttoned in pearly nacre.

Chiming sweet liquid crystal glasses.
Lush with thick white Riesling
Or floral lilts of Moscato
And melting flesh of pears.

And you, in plum~~
How it brought out that
Pale blue,
The melancholy winter field
Of your eyes.
And your jacket,
The light grey cashmere,
That brushed,
That playfully
Kittened up,
Begging to be touched.

As ivory notes
Shushed off
Slick sloped
Felted hammers fell.
A caressing tumble
in a White Spruce

We dined on Artic Char,
Blackened and grilled crisp,
Yielding all sweet beneath,
Plump falling white flakes.

And the snow came down,
Cathredaled through windows.
Soft bright lights.
Endlessly falling,
Silently into this night.
All edges softened,
Drifted and drifting,
Mysterious and jubilant.
A new world
Blanketed down
For us alone.

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