In Which I Make Another Attempt At Poetry
by Ann Neilson
Lay by me, my darling,
as we paint the flowers and skies
with hues like the Aegean sea and
Twist your hair and observe the
rain as it pitter-patters
mimicking, tracing the rhythm of your heart;
thinking as piano melodies are plinking,
racing towards the tracks to your soul.
Drawings are envious of the eyes
that encompass all; your eyes.
Every flower bows its head in shame
to the spectacularity of your form;
graceful, whimsical, and tantalizing.
Blink blearily and nod your head as
you lull to bed in my arms.
Dream beautiful dreams, stories that can
be put to later use.
Let the flickering flames of the dying fire
warm the last cold bits that haunt you.
Allow me to shoo them away, hush your crystal
tears, and frame your watercolor complexion
in the gallery of my mind.
(I promise I won’t quit my day job.)