for Magpie Tales, Writing

A Whiff of Vicissitude

Waking, Walking, Singing, in the Next Dimension? 1979 by Morris Graves

Frail and obedient,

that used to be me.

Silent, unquestioning,

always following.

But, when I took a sip

of the nectar dew on

one green stalk

that afternoon.

My little wings sliced the air,

my beak glistened against the sunset’s last rays.

I flew higher, faster.

Unrestricted.

Emotions bred actions

that I desire.

I turned selfish,

yet still frail.

Dazzling,

dainty.

I became,

with you.

*Written for the Magpie Tales

Advertisements
Standard

15 thoughts on “A Whiff of Vicissitude

      • That is a wonderful honour! Many more comments will flow your way I am sure – your poetry was so nice to read – the rhythm was just right, the words not too little or too much, and each mattered – the emotion was there. Wonderful – and I never ever praise without sincerity.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s