“a poem about maleficent”
From mists to mists, the maleficent
black like scraps
of night cast down, she swoops.
She sleeps in sharp brambles,
soaking in a darker nature
waiting for her peace to pierce.
Whistles of fresh death flush
on the song of the black bird,
claws digging into her shroud.
She listens like snow under the sun,
soaking in her darker nature;
waiting for her beauty to die.
“A poem addressing a ‘you,’ describing for them the wonders of this world, and with each one explaining why it can’t compare to ‘You.'”
I see the world, sprung
forth from stars,
burned from beautiful heat.
Humans walk, and You are born.
No wonder on the rocky plains,
No wonder on the sands of Egypt,
No bablonian gardens growing,
until I saw You.
I walk and see ancient power,
but old dust and walls-
crumble like bones and bread
spread on the roman stones.
The vision of You- completes
my submissive mind.
Obsession wheels me far
to great walls to falling towers.
These petty stones built for your toes.
I saw Zeus in white marble,
majestic and abrupt, I walked on.
You have more power in a touch
than a thousand touchstones on Olympus.
It is no wonder that the gods came
down from the skies to kiss
strangers, but no gritty love
between the pyramids or towers.
Beauty seeps from You,
in pools of unexplainable gold
and I return with shallow
news of distant sunshine, fading.
You are above all distance and stony structure.
You are the richest sunset stretching
around my world.