Dance of the Damselfly

Dance of the Damselfly

A Poem by Michael G. Smith

Watching the Damselfly of nature


Across the moor
To Wicken Fen
Where brume swallows all
Into mire, of the life...

At river‘s end


There begins
The serenades of dawn, unto sipid dew
And they gather into warmth
Upon and onto rising shines

Of morning plumes


She mist
Of the brittle heath
You may slip away
But, what does awaken,

Nymphs of lore, poised to face this day


And in trust
Beauty charms the wind
Upon what was last

Of once,

A virgin mural wing


Over forenoon lust, a blush
Swoon those marsh lily eyes
And perch upon fragrance of Lady’s slipper
Thus, the romance

Of the Fenland Damselfly


Round twiddle round and through
As Adler to the willow
A maiden’s flight in sapphire circles
Alluring danseur fly to the ready then

Hasten, beset to follow


Bestride, thus straddle oft
Atop the grain shallow reed
Softer cross the moss of peat to settle
To end nature's pretense

Sows and impregnates its seed


Here aloft the glisten, venery ends
Vixen drinks in insect life
Of instinct passions by danseur prey
A finale at river’s fen, resets the stage

Once again to the "Dance of the Damselfly"

© 2013 Michael G. Smith

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Added on March 7, 2013
Last Updated on September 23, 2013
Tags: insect, nature, dance, dragonfly, water, love, god