Ascendant soul floats high above
The cool of long past spring
Alabaster skin turned dark
for lust of healthy wing,
unfettered flight.
She soars above me.
Scorched wings catch
the dark sweet air.
Brown from their passing
to close to the sun.
She eyes a perch of tortured oak.
Descending close on ruffled wings
With clear unclouded eye,
She sees the depths of gnarled despair,
and touched, through tortured heart,
feels wooden heart ring true.
A twig of hope grows full
and fills her empty breast.
She lands softly, careful grip.
feathered fingers caress my soul.
My spirit soars.
Arms enfolding tears untold.
Mouth caresses timeless breath.
Hands feel heat of brittle wing.
A moment only, caught in time.
Deep heat envelops tainted oak.
An old and blemished tree.
Branches sigh in dreadfull wish.
Heart of Oak takes sweet desire.
Leaves shiver at the touch
of feathered wonder.
But shriveled Oak cannot hold
the soaring heart of clouded light.
She needs a stronger bough,
less twisted perch.
And she flys on.....
Send comments and mail to Baggins@Netcom.Com Last updated by Baggins on 1/3/97