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Rated: E · Poetry · Family · #2212520
Written in honor of Lady Amelia Windsor- an amazing socialite who opens doors of the mind.
British Ghost

Royalty resides in the thin,
clearest air - a feathered goddess
who sings not with her voice
but with incomparable wings
that provides her with
the abilities that fuels imaginations
far and wide for aloft
- in an aerielist's abide -
she deftly slices the slivers
the silvered currents
that push and pull,
the bronzed torrents
that pull and push
through an onslaught's rush
as if she were in
the deepest of dreams,
the depths of which
we cannot grasp
but she, through a twisting,
fluttering, ethereal trespass -
voluntarily seeks the altar
where wind nor cloud
ne'er falter
for there is a marriage
that is ceaseless
and without boundaries
that mesh perfectly
beneath the driven engine
of the far away Sun,
the rays she so loves
as it perpetually lifts
and delivers her scissored-tail
into a screaming turn
that cascades down
nearly to the turf
alongside a beach's broad,
- loquacious surf -
as it advances and recedes...
endlessly advances and recedes ...
as the onshore breeze
brings her inland -
directly overhead
once more.

Barely had we noticed
her reappearance when,
joined by her mate who
more than materialized
around the above-ward Sun
they circle and they rise,
they circle and they rise ...
performing a perfect dance
in the silence of Rapture's silhouette,
lovingly shadow each other's swallowtail,
their scissoring motion provides
an exquisite danse
of the most minute labors
for no move is made without
the broad Wind's consent
for within the Great Nature
- the things of creative intent -
giving us a taste of dreams
this carefree acrobat
with a dash of utter surprise
upon our most wild palate,
and with a far-away, other
tropical flavors I'll surmise
that our time spent with this
most glorious ghost then arrives
in wintry Florida with brilliante claim
giving many more months
- to our exquisite gain -
for each February she provides us
with those beautiful swooping flights
for when and where she is seen plying
the waves of clouds and jet stream
there you'll discover
our very Muse
in delicate
symphony.

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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/2212520