Recollecting finer fragments from our musical looming lithe and rare
One can fix a ring upon a hand
yet never really breathe in
sweetened, redolent romance reaping
gold from dark macadam stripped
or a tidy fist of dimpled filters,
honey among a swoln hummock’s heart
we’d nestled there in fragrant talks,
what figures tingling tongues unveil
from quietly crackling cherries’ traces—
rings unwound from silvery strings
that craze old Archimedes still.
Stunning. Beautiful. Perfect.
nice work with sound
beautiful musicality
It has a classical, Shakespearean feel. Good job.
This from an earlier conversation… so glad you recorded your beautiful thought and expounded on it so imperviously.
Thank you!