Frost-coloured roses

Jane Dougherty Writes

As today is Saturday, (not yesterday ahem) I decided to pay a return visit to the oracle. I like what she had to say.

The cool-fingered moonScreen Shot 2017-06-17 at 15.15.55

has no time

for those who sleep

in the shadow of death.

Storm sings mad music

that soars, screaming

into the black sky,

like love lost at sea.

Stars sail home,Screen Shot 2017-06-17 at 15.42.06

night sky flying,

their sad, secret poetry

perfumes the dark

with clouds,

the colour of oceans—

blue breath lingering

like ice in the grass.

One moment,Screen Shot 2017-06-17 at 16.16.10

a regard,

a voice in the night—

language of the heart.

Dream a river of music,

sing songs of the sun,

fly me to you

on wings bright

as the evening star.

Dusk fallsScreen Shot 2017-06-17 at 16.51.07

like the roses,

sweet and dark.

I long to see

the moonlight bloom,

frost colour

in this summer grass—

last tendrils of winter.

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