The Gift

Silently she walks

Feet of stone on a glassy path

Dauntless she roves

Ebony heart, glorious burden

Drought with life

Ivory brow and crimson lips

Through raven's eyes she seeks

His kiss

A breath of love, transcendent

Her last moment of joy

A whisp of smoke in the haze

Left but with a longing

For ecstasy ephemeral

Homeward, she moves

For Him, she breathes

Though sickened in pallor

She endures for demise

No fire, no hell

Nor temples of providence

May stand against her will

Feet of stone, silent

Flutter of winds whisper

His divine invitation

Promise of comfort

Offering the Gift

Homeward she moves

Towards the dark embrace

Lips parting in laughter

Glorious in her tragedy

On her knees, she greets Him

Arms held high in rejoice

Eyes to the heavens, she begs Him

To slake his thirst in her

Out of shadow he moves

Reverent in her alabaster beauty

Without words he bids her rise

Without sound the command is given

She moves as silk, bearing flesh

Icy fingers cradle her head

Lips of fire caress her throat

Wanton, she begs the invasion

Deeply, he breathes her in

As shards of ivory delve

The breath of Love pricking her flesh

He bestows the Gift

Taking from her, grace and good

Giving to her, ecstasy and lust

And as she swoons in the fog

Mirthless laughter escapes

As the Gift takes hold, she sees

The tragedy of death is naught

For in death, His love endures.

Reviews

[Christopher Marlowe]

Rhythms are gentle, images are very provocative. A very nice variety in the language--definitely put together will intelligence and taste. Brava!

CM