... beauty ..., ... God ..., ... life ..., ... love ..., ... poem ..., ... poems ..., ... poetry ..., ... relationships ..., ... summer ..., ... the sun ...

your darling, Beauty, takes a stroll

there is Dew on the grass
sticky wet blades crushed
like bendable trees beneath

her feet. crunching with the
sound of busted trumpets
as she meanders through

another meadow. hidden
in the morning’s ghost haze.
trails of sunlight flicker

like just-lit matches through the
strands of golden hair
cascading the curved bend

of a back forged in the hidden
fires where all things Beautiful
are fashioned, by hands we

will never see. it is a very
secret place, where
Beauty is made.

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2 thoughts on “your darling, Beauty, takes a stroll

  1. I know this well; that back, that hair.
    Sometimes, when my girl is at school and I am working at my desk, I feel her moving through the house. But she’s never there when I turn to look.

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