Fresh Air

The pale violet

Luminescence

Of her ever

Waxing

Wink

Lures me

From these clean cut

Corners:

My perception

Of comfort.

Hinges silently

Abet my escape;

I inhale,

And the night

Finds a home

In my chest.

Satin strands

Of nocturnal

Radiance

Plash me with

Nonchalance

And freedom;

I repent, and

Nature

Rushes through me.

As the wind

Tousles

My hair and

Whispers

Sweet nothings,

I denounce my

Windows

And

Walls.

Reviews

[Ravyne Hawke]

Excellent poem, love the form and the way it rolls off the tongue so easily. Nature's call cannot be ignored :) and you displayed that well here.

[Sel Whiteley]

Wow, stunning, loved the format and the diction is so wide and engaging, amazing!

[Poeticadia]

The transition from inside our man-made walls, to outside under the moon is captured here with accuracy and feeling... natures fresh air pervading the body and spirit, enticing and gently calling. Excellent word choices and clear images.

[FJ Davis]

Fresh night air becomes a sort of silky siren. Wonderful craft, charming images and interesting, intelligent word choice.
Looks to me, Ben, like another gold star.