Blossoming Sprite

by Poetically Speaking   Jan 23, 2007


In her hands, nests a boy,
soiled with white lies.
Relishing in warm palms and the
shaded affection of virgin nurture.

He squints out at rose colored cheeks
and mahogany toned eyes.
Ever the Sprite,
be thy Shepard.

In her hands, where he nests.
Violins motioned in sequence.
To sweep his heart.
With grace and love.

She holds him tightly
in her soft grip.
Where he is safe and warm.
In the forest of lies.

The Sprite carried trust,
high atop canopies.
Dark as lies.
Which bloom white.

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Latest Comments

  • 17 years ago

    by Tom Swart

    Nice. I liked your wording and the thoughts. Keep up the good writes. Bravo! Love can be such a cruel and brutal beast sometimes.

  • 17 years ago

    by Teria

    -Thinks-
    I like it..
    I liked the first stanza a lot.

    This is one of those poems. I don't really get, but I love it.
    Like, I'm thinking its about a new mother, and her new baby..
    But, I'm not sure.
    yet, I love it.

    5/5 Fo Sho. :]
    And, I'll keep reading it, and let you know when I figure it out..
    :]