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november child

the curse of a sentimental heart & a skeptical mind

Category

beauty

Defensive

I thought he was quite handsome,
fluttering back and forth importantly,
showing off those vibrant colours
on his tiny, fragile wings.

So endearing when he started
following me around. I wondered
if it was my perfume which
deliciously smells like summer.

He never left my side, even after
I went back inside, he just
settled in a safe distance and
stared at me in a pensive manner.

‘Look at you’ he said all of a sudden.
‘You’ve become boring. All earnest and
always busy. Where did your smile go,
and what happened to your soul?’

And I got a little defensive, not sure
if I still liked that cheeky rascal.
I really have no time for this when life
is pushing me this way and that.

After all, he is just a butterfly.
What does he know about
responsibilities?

 

© november child
photo credit: Neil Halin via Flickr

Distant

Whispers in the Willow Tree

 

She is difficult that one,
snapping at me
more than once
if I just run by without
properly admiring
her beauty, and how
prettily her radiating canopy
overlaps the bank.

She always urges me
to sit on the grass, relax,
enjoy the scent of her, and
of her lake. I can’t bring myself
to tell her the water smells
quite brackish, so
I just take shallow breaths,
and hope she will not notice.

She is quite proud
of the cracks in her bark,
(beauty marks she calls them),
and her spot by the lake
she has defended
for many years,
though I think she
hates the cold season
when she has to shed
her leaves, vain little thing.

She likes to flaunt
her graceful limbs
to emphasise her stories.
I know she fibs,
what with remembering
knights and the ring
of their horse’s shoes
on cobblestone pavement,
but who am I to judge?

 

© november child
photo credit: Roberto Verzo via Flickr
in response to The Sunday Whirl Wordle 301
Mindlovermisery’s Menagerie Writing Prompt #209 “It’s All in the Title”
Radiate

Sunrise

I still glow in shades of rose and gold
in the aftermath of a gorgeous sunrise
that slowly but surely crept under my skin
while I watched Sol seize control of the day.

And while today I proudly wear my new
daytime skin, tonight as Sol descends
I will shed it in favour of cobalt and flashes of silver
and pay tribute to Mani on her lonely ride.

© november child
photo credit: Aristocrats-hats via Flickr

Descend

Sometimes

Sometimes you forget
your pretence of being human.
I hear the hum of
the Universe interlaced
with your voice,
and I can almost touch
golden rivers running
underneath your skin.

Sometimes your human body
is unable to fully contain you.
I see the most pleasing
white moonlight
leaking from your eyes,
and catch the scent of
cold starlight during
winter solstice.

And sometimes
I shed silken tears,
and submit to my fear
that this world is not enough
to hold you.

© november child
photo credit: Francisco Sánchez-Aedo Gálvez via Flickr

Pleased

This is Serious

I try to squeeze eternities
between seconds,
as I watch you get dressed.

I aim at expanding
those intimate moments,
while the dim light sends
shadows dancing across your skin.

Me gustas.

 

© november child
photo credit: boxography via deviantart
Seriousness

Elegance

In the flickering light of candles
the quill glides over parchment
in long, graceful strokes
unleashing words of an elegance
long lost,
composing prose that emanates
the fragrance of centuries
long gone.

© november child
photo credit: historygradguy via flickr

Candle
Elegant

Ladybug

I watch as you carefully pick up
the fragile ladybug
that got caught in the curtain.
I can’t help but stare at your hands,
those hands that had me
right from the start
and I am captivated by
their gentle movement.

We count the black spots
smiling,
there are eight,
our lucky number.

I watch your fingers
as they delicately
follow the outlines
of the tiny wing covers,
and I shiver
when I recall those fingers
composing their song
on my skin.

© november child

photo credit: Guiseppe Lacalandra via flickr

Shiver

Perception

Oh, you small-minded creatures
on your tiny blue planet,
convinced of your singularity,
if only you knew.

By raising my statues
you have praised my names,
Aphrodite, Venus and Thalia
to just name a few.

You made me the epitome of beauty,
never seeing me truly,
as your eyes can only observe
what your mind will allow.

To save yourself from insanity
you needed to perceive something,
so incarnate beauty you chose.

©november child
in response to Photo-Fiction #48
photo via Random_Michelle
This was not only inspired by the above photo but also by an old movie ‘They live’ and two articles I read a while ago, one about an african tribe that has no name for the colour blue and the other one about natives who simply couldn’t perceive the huge sailing vessels of the ancient explorers because it was something completely alien to their world.

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