Tuesday, 30 August 2011


She’s like a dancer with the way she speaks,
Weaving nets that shine like diamonds.
And are as complex as the look in her eyes.
Eloquent twists and snaps of smile
Escape from her lips, and light up the room
Like fragments of a youthful mirror.
Her mind blossoms like a hothouse flower
In the tundra; a colourful miracle no-one
Quite comprehends. She’s a splash of music
In the snow.
When she walks she’s like the cool breeze on
The bright day, like nothing you’d ever want
More. Rarely has someone been so truly
Her laughter rolls like firelight over glass,
And her whispers are flutes.
She is a friend like iron or stone or sunlight.
Strong and present, there and true.
All of her is a magic I will miss.

No comments:

Post a Comment