Sprinting through the meadow--
Sun warmly brushing skin.
Tickled by the wild grass
As afternoon games begin:
Exploring creeks and forests
And all that lives within.
Scrapes and bruises commemorating
The quest for long lost kin.

Tiptoe through the garden;
Whisper through the tress.
In illuminated darkness,
Be hushed by rustling leaves.
Flowering rows exposed
So as to be kissed by passing bees;
Dancing down the aisles,
Damp earth cooling your bare feet

Sitting on the window sill,
Watching the passing day.
Attention turned towards the hearth
Once night takes the view away.
Surrounded by the things you know,
Comfortable in the array.
Simple now, was simple then
And simple may they stay.

I am lovely, O mortals! Like a dream carved in stone,
And my breast where poets are bruised to the bone
Formed to inspire each in their quintessence
A love as eternal and silent as essence.

I unite Ledaean pallor with a frozen heart,
I scorn movement for it displaces my art,
A riddling sphinx, on a throne in the sky;
Never do I laugh and never do I cry.

Poets, at the feet of my imperial pose,
Which I seem to adopt from statues grandiose,
Will consume their lives in studious indulgence;

For I have, to enthrall those docile paramours
Pure mirrors to enhance all beauties evermore:
My eyes, my large, wide eyes of eternal effulgence!

~It's raining,
it's pouring,
my fat cat,
is snoring~
c'x

You were beautiful when you had shadows around you
and even more so you were beautiful

When you were honest


Like only the way a statue could be honest

Beautiful
and honest
and cold
and steadfast

That is just precisely what you were


Like a cold, barren, stone state of being