Eyes speaking with ravished rapture.
A celestially painting of oceans and earth,
that with passionate bosoms aflame with fire.
To drink deep of the hush of the cloak of heaven,
that glimmers around we in fountains of heart light.

O’ wild and entrancing warrior,
the strain of keen pipes that cleaveth my soul,
like the sweet wail of unquenched hunger.
We beautiful dancers, intent with faces that bewitch,
the voluptuous beckoning of night.

The scent of deep need and patchouli flutter,
then die in the maze of my dew-tangled hair.
Our smiles entwine like magical serpents,
the crimson poppies of lips that are opiate-heady;
exquisite and subtle, they bleed of our past cries.

Now wailing, now singing, rhythmic and dipping,
into splayed blossoms that bend to the will of breezes and showers.
Wantonly writhing, they flash, they die, and yet…
linger then relinquish themselves readily in radiant choir.
While lily-long fingers, wet with hope,
entrance your ancient’s melodious lines.
~Shannon Donovan


Find more of her awesome work here: http://www.redbubble.com/people/shannondonovan