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Athina Mitchell Feb 2016
At the base
Of the door.

Cloyingly sweet,
"Let me in..."

If only
To rapture.
Accidence ambience acoustics find
Tractive tactile taciturn went
Cantankerous cantilever capacity bind
Wanton wayward warranty pent
In extremis extremity exigence grind
Apriori aorist actuator glint
Futurity fatidic's fornication wind
Lecherous libido larcenies bent
Lurid livid laconic mind
Exergonic ephemeral extant spent
  Feb 2016 Athina Mitchell
Signs everywhere
an organised mind
tracking a meal
while being stalked.
Faerie flitting through the trees
Please, oh please, don't come near me
I don't want your taunts and tricks
Your words are worse than stones and sticks

Though you look so fine and pretty
With your voice that's so bewitching
Your fair, fair face hides mischief well
And all the secrets you won't tell

Your glistening wings, they flutter fast
As you loop and circle past
Lost in the maze of tangled leaves
A shining speck on the summer breeze
Athina Mitchell Feb 2016

With Both Feet on the Ground

Hello, dear-one.
What say you in this lowly place?

"When twilight traces the terrace,
Touch the torch-sky with the tip of your lip.
               A sweet heat
Will draw your willful mind,
But watch! The torch-sky takes:
               Petals shower
The firelight blaze, like my root vein,
Spills languid and warm across the sky.
               Beauty in elation
               But now breathe out!"


Then Into Deep Water

Say, dear-one,
What's all this now?

"The blue of night is sweeping over the torch-sky,
And shadows steal swiftly as silent silhouettes,
               Come coldly dancing
Do not disdain—dreams form feather-light foam,
And fade heavily in a salt-wash, flooding fervently.
                Covered darkly
                ­Shiver forward
From terrace to sea my foot falls easily.
Then the eerie eels entwine in the brine.
                Feeling supine
                Let the deep creep
                Until next time."


But the Canvas is Brighter Still

Stay awake, dear-one.
Is there not more to tell?

"The search for halcyon has wrought hush-flickers:
Stars  staring brightly stripping night's dark domain.
               Drifting dazedly: humorous
'Theirs is a humming neatly humbling hysterias.'
Whispers Nyx, 'Dwelling hinders what dreaming may fix.'
               Sleeps slips
               Morning stands
Beacon! Bright butterfly, beckon bravery!
Billow boastfully—this day will be mine!
               Keep in mind,
               It's always divine."

Very good, dear-one,
A fine farewell.
Another poem I wrote awhile ago
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