Burnished by the sun this watery shield
shines against the eye's invasion.
The ripples deflect like fall's bronze field,
shimmering wheat against persuasion
that it profits secrets to yield.
To blind depths and dark so concealed
can our minds bind roots by equation?
Leaves, curled tendrils gleam in evasion.
For when all the lily's been stripped and peeled,
only wide wonder remains revealed.

08/05/2012

Author's Note: Part of a postcard project.

Posted on 08/05/2012
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