In her wedding gown
she sat on the tall cliff
under the full moon
and looked far off
into the sea
holding her bouquet
and believing
he had not
abandoned her.
– matt at shadow of iris
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I don’t function
when you are far;
I’m a golem of stone
on a wall by the flowers,
a stale phantasm
that sits and waits
for the graceful wave
of your slender hand
followed by
its velvet touch;
a process of creation
infusing me with life
and leaving me
hungering
for just a little more
of you.
– matt at shadow of iris
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Lines
written across a divide
that seeps into eternity
and holds me there
entranced
until the end.
Words
awakening spirits
that call me out
and tell me
what I should have known
all along.
Tiny little flowers
shivering in the wind
and little insects
scattering
at the first drop of rain
as it crashes
on to the tiny leaves
of a thirsty
four leaf clover.
– matt at shadow of iris
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[If you like the header on this post, please visit Serene Beauty Photos, in particular, this post. Permission was kindly granted for use of the photo. ]
Beautiful flowers
vibrant colors
a spring explosion
a calling to the heart
a vision
of what it’s all about.
- matt at shadow of iris
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She prays within
a flower hidden
a secret place
of reverie
a golden chalice
to end all quests
peace and freedom
born as one.
– matt at shadow of iris
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[Inspired by the art of Kris Kuksi.]
Small little faces
peer out at me
from flowers that bloom
only under
the full moon.
– matt at shadow of iris
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[Inspired by the work of Valerie Monthuit.]
An iconic silhouette
panniered
and conically corseted
court dresses
of exquisite silk
and gentle patterns;
two ladies that have stolen away
into the early morning mist.
Powdered white faces
white as china
soft as cream
under fashionable wigs
dusted with flour
worn high in a roll
with rouge lips
carefully crafted
to convey
just the proper amount
of sensuality;
their warm hands had clasped
and their eyes had met
with such force
that words had been an excess.
They had thought the flowers
so beautiful
pink roses, scented with delirium
amaryllis, sweet enough to eat
cherry blossoms in full bloom
and irises, potent with message,
a gift of substantial meaning
from one tender heart
to another.
They had thought the flowers
so beautiful, that is
until the bugs had begun
to creep out
buzzing flies with bulbous eyes
and sticky tongues
that flit out licking everything,
droning bees that bobbled about
and grew angry quickly
when you swiped at them,
whining mosquitoes
that left just a drop of blood
on your skin
after they had pierced it,
and creepy crawling things
long and slender
with a thousand legs
each touch a prick
as they scurried up your arm
and onto your back
where they paused to listen
to the growing din
of insect noise,
a murmuring that said
to every organism
rhythm, form, and duration
varied expressions of thriving life
formed around
limits of an inward order
phantoms breaking free
from last year’s rain.
– matt at shadow of iris
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[Inspired by the work of Ray Caesar.]
