As Night Falls

Beneath a sweep of orange
painted 
on the sky's dusky tent
in brushstrokes 
dipped into the melting sun
as it throws its hat 
on the night’s remotest star
she lies in whispered murmurs
on the sands of time,
bathed in the sweet bouquet
of summer blossoms drenched
with evening dew.

And she arches 
to the fingers of the breeze
that glides across her nakedness
and lingers like a butterfly
within the deepest caverns
of her want

She opens to the wind
that it might 
taste the pledge that drips
like honey
from her parted lips,
and feast upon her soul
with eyes that hold reflected
in their depths
the very hunger that possesses her
where burns a fire built
of passion’s coals.




june 2006
Janet Reid




Awarded by New Horizons




Awarded by Poetic Constellations