"Poetry is thoughts that breathe, and words that burn." ~Thomas Gray

"Poetry unites." ~Anon

"Truth is such a rare thing, it is delightful to tell it." ~Emily Dickinson


Written by Gordon Mason
He was born in Fife, Scotland, and now divides
his writing time between Scotland and Spain.
His blog: Catapult To Mars

(Originally published in Snakeskin)

Blue

Blue passion flower, anvil
for butterflies delivered
by a soft yellow-dressed afternoon.

I think of the amethyst cross
between her breasts,
coffee in small rococo cups

and wood smoke that braids
her hair a fragrance of olive.
Her hands speak

like keepers of my old dreams.
Let the bad winds blow, they say,
they will never open scars.

Posted with consent from the writer.

5 Comments:

  1. Cherie/ Butterfly Dreamer said...
    OMg I loved this so much.
    WHY? said...
    I haven't read a love poem as moving as this in a long time!
    Karen said...
    It is the sensory images of this poem that draw me, the colors and sights and smells. These are the things of the present that protect from "the bad winds" and the old wounds.
    K.Lawson Gilbert said...
    This is so finely structured, the words delicate and dreamlike.

    "...and wood smoke that braids
    her hair a fragrance of olive."

    It is like an explanation of a Kahlo painting.
    Gordon Mason said...
    Thanks folks for your tremendous comments.

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