Beauty Exposed.


Beauty Exposed.


Beauty is daffodil
petals spread over snowy banks,
like butter on white bread.

In the wee hours of morn
it is the final line
of a poem that leaves
the writer in awe,
the reader breathless,
and one's muse becalmed.

It is the release
of one into another,
the clasping
and the thrusting
until flesh melts
in a long spasm
and a sigh.

It lingers in
the night mist
where I walk alone,
seeking dreams
that won't come.

Beauty is everywhere,
one only needs to seek it out,
and let it's warmth wash
over the ulcers rubbed in our souls
from daily sorrows
and anger that beset us.

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