Snow

There is a soft fury

Furiously fluttering

Down in a tantrum

Frigid and white

Silencing the world

Like the set curve

Of a woman’s back

Turned in displeasure

Even as the penitent

Lover draws his mouth

Wet with desire, paralyzed

Across the barren plane

Until she lies soft and open

A cold

Shimmering beauty

Anxious for the sun

To bring her

To that

Melting point

Reviews

[alan peter kelly]

Love the sensual overtones natural as the nature you describe in so uniquely you a way and I could go on in circles with floral praise and ebullient burstings but shall away before my mind allows my queued linguistics to carry me off on tangient only I could fully comprehend... you are an artist...from the moment I set eyes on that which glows radiant from within you I thought then as I do now... Splendid art...top shelf in every aspect of literary skill...