To Thrum a Glassy Stem

On fragmenting taffeta mirrors

Manacled to an earthen house

Over two bending knees an iron chain

Beetle, bone and stone

Pine for a love unknown

Though winged soporific dreams

Lay sprawled, waiting expansive

This my promise Blue

The Thought and its mandrel motion

This my promise Scarlet

The Blush of a ripened Fruit

Left low in sanguine laughter

A bed the soft of heather

Stashed in the branches breach

Words to thin cracked leaves

Like the folds of an angels wing

Or the crack in a devils smile

Poetry for kin and fey

Or the unsuspecting seeker

This my Promise Green

The Lilt in a voice that's laughing

This my promise Gold

To Sup with empty Cup

The Pearl that contains all pearls

The piece that evinces the puzzle

On peeling taffeta mirrors

To Thrum a Glassy Stem