Beauty

Sunday, 22 November 2015

With a face as delicate as petals,
eyes as pretty as love, 
a smile red like a rose. 
A beauty trapped in a glass house.

With the birds she hums, 
day in day out.
 A melancholy flutter 
as they follow her through the great hall. 
In her slippers 
she dances a ball of her own.

Her body like a feather; 
she floats through each room. 
An empty house, 
the company of her own.
 Day in day out, all alone.

Through the day 
she sweetly sings to her treasures,
a loving crowd of inanimate pleasures...


Post a Comment