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A Spring Dawn
A soft breeze beckons
Through my bedroom window
Wild and sweet
Calling me out into
A late spring dawn
The flowers a riotous bloom
Quietly i slip out
Not waking the house
As they slumber on unaware
At last feeling the
Morning dew
Cool and wet
Kissing my black silk
Stockinged feet
Sating my need
my soft black dress
Blowing in the breeze
Cool on my wet stockinged feet
I don't know whether to shout with immense excitement, or to weep for the exquisite Beauty in this poem. Or to do both. But, however the reader responds, this is a magnificent and triumphant poem, and a worthy expansion on your very special series.
Starward