Black, Multicolored

Walking into a field of flowers,
ten steps beyond the safety gates
instinct warns me
there is no turning back.

It isn't so much the walk down here
that has me holding my breath
rather, the denuded mistletoe
plonk in the middle of the daises
gets my adrenaline on high.

Footprints lead here,
each with a thrilling tale
if only I could read
toe signs.
None lead back to the gates,
held in rhapsody, I believe.

There are no butterflies and bees out here,
those beings need summer, not spring.
I left the sunshine behind me long ago
and the wholesomeness of fear was never my lot.

I wonder if I will find the flavor
of a long-ago pine nut,
aged in a wooden jar,
somewhere between bad breath
and rancidity,
or will it taste good,
a first kiss truly meant?

Or will it be like having to choose
between bonbons and chocolate,
a thought of enormous and yet
no consequence?

I was told to keep the poems
close to where he couldn't get
at them, so I could always
have words with me.

I wonder if he is a poet himself,
for, the pleasure of osculating
my lips comes at a price,
even for Death.

Poetry by Arti
Read 1072 times
Written on 2007-09-23 at 04:14

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lastromantichero The PoetBay support member heart!
A darker mood than I normally see from your excellent pen and as usual very skillfully crafted
Arti as in all your poetry your feelings and empathy your very caring nature comes through well done on this one baby i book mark it rgds mike
2007-09-23 Moods The PoetBay support member heart!
powerfully descriptive and impactful is the first impression... and then it happens despite yourself, just at the very end when all of words are absorbed: jaw drops in utter awe and you're left a gibbering fool... :o lol i really enjoyed this arti... really took me away with the words... :) *hugs* xx