Princess Meeting at Sundown

Kenneth, loves satire and writings to spotlight others, but he also has an "addiction" so to speak, to dramatic and abstract/prose poetry.

We ride our silence with sweaty brows hide,

Desires die easy, and star-lit dancing leaves.

She's slowly, gracefully, walking toward us,

Smiling safely, carefully, seeing what she believes.

Clocks run slow and time grinds, and grinds,

She's a pristine nun, a sunbeam born new.

Telling her maidens of "our" midnight blinds.

Holding her at glance, love light true.

Cradling her face in my filthy hands,

She sighs a soft sigh and closes her weeping eyes.

She whispers of home, but lives in her land,

I listen to her promises, tears, and heart beat lies.

Ahhh, the time surrenders to her, stark and tall,

She defiantly curses a coarse word in passion.

Snapping her fingers an ember burns her fall.

I hold her tightly, to quieten her confusion.

© 2020 Kenneth Avery