First
to pieces,
then to dust,
He captured her with words;
Of gold, freed
with silver tongue,
imbibing
every verb.

winged osmos
flew,
dusted beats
into chaos,  
as each
word
feels
felt.

Oats, stay dry for fecunditys harvest, as Eostres' hares
bring pittu; Falling earthbound, in abundance.
Spring madness dawns;
Love, persists. 

Once willowed, under Winter skies, shed all
we've done before.
Bringing warmth (sown a lifetime ago) to embrace
this thaw.

Watching our steps, across moss green floors; We dance
lingering in the sweetest meadows.Together,  
under budding branches;
It's time...

Blossom, reflected upon dappled millpond;
Still.
- Dark glassed surface, gently rippling with undertone -
Can you hear the water paddles roar?


Will Springs' spirit guide you; With carnal lust abound,
trusting Her to save your oats from being;
Taken...turned out...
ground?

We,
with spare oats, heap
to powdered dust; Sifted, then refined...
Molded something beautiful, wholesome, yet devine!

every
cobalt blue
feather         less
  s  o  n  g    b  i  r  d  
t    r   a   p   p   e  d
w   i   t   h   i   n
     a  b r i t t l e      
cage
will
  beat
clipped wings
'til
  droplets begin
filling
silent
  ruby pools  
with fluttering desires  
to fly free & sing

She sits within the dusty corners, of
a mind she cannot leave; Instinctively knowing all,
as each breeze stays...  
unfelt.