"My Girl with Night curls"
by: Kiersten P. Benson September 8, 2015 Wednesday 6:05PM
with dark night curls
and a look of innocent
mischief
about her.
She was wondrous to see,
a scarce star to be held
gently
inside
your hands.
So tiny --
was she,
yet so beautiful;
and so vast and perfectly
alive.
Never did the Autumn ever
wish
to see such elegance,
nor tree bend
to greet her smiling cheeks
with a brushing branch.
Jonquil her laughter
rang through
her ribs --
and through her small and
fragile
figure like
a song --
the song of
little white flowers
of Spring.
A breath of
life.
She strikes like
red lips
in a pale
world.
Rosie and pillowy
slapped by the petals
of nothing --
her cheeks are
infinitely
ridged as the mountains
above earth,
above every thing
-- and one.
- k.p.b.
/For "Rosie"/
