dVerse – Poetics – Temperature
Photo: pxhere.com
“Licence my roving hands …” John Donne
There She Was
Where paths lead,
the abiding question
niggling at my core,
river bend
or river pool stroll
and so it was,
waterhens idled
and the water was velvet
under the spell of lilies
those sirens of fertility,
and there she was
nymph arising,
my mantra
lead me not …,
failing,
bursting into flames as
her eyes called.
©Paul Vincent Cannon
Paul, pvcann.com