The Silken Guardian

A little pink railway carriage slips amorously.
- its coolness on her feet, the flowers that you picked.
Wind: curves of her back; away in endless flight.
- from violet forests: where the stars are sleeping.

Like a devoted butterfly, she soars through the air
and faces the horizons, in the shadowy glade
where snow of rose petals weep on her shoulder
while the golden stars tremble for a feel.

The silken guardian rests upon her grave,
beautifully warm with gestures, hellos and goodbyes,
whispering to those close at heart, sending a message
that sends chills down their spine and smiles to their face.

© Copyright 2010 By Joe251986 aka Italian Stallion
joe251986 joe251986
26-30, M
May 8, 2012