The Primrose Dynasty

Breathtakingly beautiful-
she bends the buzz of a bumble bee
Besets the breezes by babbling
Tongue in cheek, she sighs

Her pigment is that of a bruising peach
dreaming of being a winter rose
Bashfully hidden by naked curves
The only part of her that’s barely there

Holding hands under the covers
Going through each others’ photos
Oh, the hurt we’ll endure for one more quiet surrender
while we’re loving blind with our eyes open

Our castle we dreamed
is guarded by lamplight
Our boys and girls sheltered
by newly navy night eyes

She sings them to sleep,
and wakes them with toast
Then sends them off into a vision
To the tall shadows of sun died wheat and whims

No woes weigh the bare toes of her wooded winds,
her golden locks of royal sky,
powder blue mysteries (deeper than jewels),
and magic webs of writing

I’m swinging the sun by a rope on a stick
Nyquil flavored kisses (nickel a piece)
And she’s the manic torch casting atmosphere
for those willing to sound their treasured love within it

Poetry from Nevermore Forevermore by Shane Windham
E-book and paperback now on Amazon.com

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