Dew

forest floor in the morning

forest floor in the morning (Photo credit: withrow)

The princess of the dead spirits
surges with exhilaration
and the power of the wilderness —

Alabaster skin a shadow,
the rustle of sword ferns
the only evidence of her passing —

pouring out the music of the morning,
dark and sparkling drops left as a
blanket on the forest floor,

then withering to a vaporous wisp
before the rose flush of dawn.

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3 Comments

Filed under Poetry, Poetry - Prompts

3 responses to “Dew

  1. Gorgeous. You are on fire recently!

  2. I love the idea of a dead-spirit princess, dancing around in the leaves stirring up the morning rose flush. I like this girl. So cool.

    “pouring out the music of the morning,
    dark and sparkling drops” … Beautiful. Like dew and song seep from her alabaster skin. I’m glad this popped out of you, Mark. 🙂

  3. Ooooo…love this juxtaposition, especially:
    “Alabaster skin a shadow”

Some of what I write is true, some is fiction; most is merely possibility.

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