#flit
*
*Starlight on my palm
Peel back the light and you'll see
the scared soul beneath
☆
Worthy of a shard
Of the greatness I've longed dreamed
A loose thread blown far
☆
Pain tugs at my seams
As I am merely adrift
In one grand design
☆
On vespertine days
I pick loose feathers to weave
Wings to fly so free*
*
Dec 24, 2020
Dec 24, 2020 at 2:10 PM UTC
Like Angels, Winged
by Michael R. Burch
Like angels—winged,
shimmering, misunderstood—
they flit beyond our understanding
being neither evil, nor good.
They are as they are . . .
and we are their lovers, their prey;
they seek us out when the moon is full
and dream of us by day.
Their eyes—hypnotic, alluring—
trap ours with their strange appeal;
drawn like moths to flame, we gather . . .
to see, to touch, to feel.
And in their arms, enchanted,
we feel their lips young/old,
and with their gorging kisses—
we warm them, growing cold.
Published by Monumental Moments (Eye Scry Publications), Poetry Life & Times, Behance, Razor Sharp and Dracula & His Kin. Keywords/Tags: vampires, angels, winged, wings, flit, flitting, evil, good, lovers, prey, night, day, moths, flame, appeal, attraction, kisses, warm, cold
Mar 27, 2020
Mar 27, 2020 at 5:39 AM UTC
Against the thick black curtain on horizon
of still, gigantic cumulus cloud formation
three flitting army helicopters deftly display
a shadow play on jolly life of dragonflies,
I am compelled to think, as I drive past this
along the road skirting Bangalore garrison
Feb 25, 2016
Feb 25, 2016 at 10:59 AM UTC