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Saturday, January 28, 2012

Aquarian elf girl

The elf angel of Ardingly
In West Sussex,
Is sixteen years old,
Smells of flowers
And looks like liquid sex
In jeans.

Her voice sounds like
A fairy bell
Heard behind waterfalls.

She doesn't walk;
She flows
Like a reed
In the breeze,
Too slim for friction.

Her coursework
Is averagely badly written,
And she wears her school tie
Unacceptably loose.

She doesn't use a mobile phone,
Or an iPod,
Doesn't watch television,
Won't eat meat
Or anything cooked
In a microwave oven,
And she sleeps
Ten hours a day,
Next to a basket of crystals,
Saying that that is her main work:
She has dreams to look after.

But notice her eyes.
What colour are they today?

Look at her eyes
When she is sitting
Next to her mother.
Her eyes are older
Than her mother's,
But they dance more.

Her lifestream is old,
Yet young,
Yet forever fresh.

A few boys have kissed her,
And many girls.

And they all say the same thing:
Her lips flutter
Like eyelashes,
Her tongue darts
Like a lizard,
And she tastes of Jellybabies
With a hint of lemon
And something else.

It is the something else
Which people remember,
And it is the something else
Which people look forward to.


Teen issues


Kristianne Wych Christian Wicca

A dream is a portal

Small visitors


Private collection

Never settle down


Unusual cloud-form over Launceston

A new scripture shortly to be published

I am the Moon

More Norfolk koans

Index of blog contents

1 comment:

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