Wednesday, June 9, 2010

Pocketbook

Comforted by its own reflection,
it grew more tender by the second.
Sparkling crystals shoot out of nostrils
and show what was to be reckoned.

It's one with its motherhood.
It knows only itself.
If more were to be known,
it would surely topple the shelf.

Crows sighted their butterflies in the water
and swooped down to meet their prey.
Twinkling wings batted their velvet
and held the predators' sway.

The warriors tugged on the long rope.
Bristles began to erupt out at the centre.
Dry husk left powderily,
so healing tears could be choked.

But all the while,
the hazelnut fished for a scholar.
Dear-skinned blankets wrapped around the body
to squeeze the smell taller.

It let freedom emblazon itself
onto the placard.
Swotty resins taught it to build its house
in its own backyard.

Pushed for an answer,
she gave way.
And then he hoped
he'd have something to say.