By J A Crowder

A song, not sought, intruding
 
Robbing my fairy dust–my happy thoughts
 
A song, stomping loud and robust upon my clear-lighted soul until I sense her fading
 
She hovers over me, a dancing bonnet blowing farther away upon wind’s translucent billows
 
What a blue, warm haven she is upon my head?
 
Not too far beyond grasp! I hope!
 
She is there, beneath sun’s warming fire and over earth’s gentle stone
 
A song stomps upon my soul, kicking and swinging should I turn it’s volume down
 
For surly hungered a song laying waste my faith must be
 
I ignore it, pulling it’s dark harp strings from the bow
 
Illusive to my touch
 
A careful binding, like leather to paper stacks
 
Ripping FREE! Like wave lengths loosening their grip on ocean floors
 
Waves dash and break through open sky whilst kissing sun’s streaming, burning rods
 
I chase my bonnet through sunsets setting ablaze orange glades of brass
 
Catching her blue hues of warmth beneath the sun
 
This is my soul, my heart’s hearth, and warming wisdom upon my head
 
Dressed my bonnet, simple and fair

Written September 19th, 2019

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Nelson D Reyes
10 months

Beautiful poem. Beautiful “vintage” bonnet. Wonderful inspiring poet wearing it.

Like. Thanks Jenifer. Always a pleasure hearing from you.

Robert L. Martin
10 months

I'm so glad I had a chance to read this. I love your metaphors and the way you place them in the poem. You don't have a set pattern of which metaphor to use like I have. I wish I was as free as you are.

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