Late Winter in Ferreira

 

54800077_10216474102377644_914181933527728128_nHer crystal crown of ice-thorns melts, and trickles

blood-warm droplets on Queen Winter’s brow

Her flaming, molten, sacred heart pump-pumping in her pinkening, swelling breast; she bears down

Day and Night dance tarantella steps, to frantic fiddle and flute around her bed

Lords, bawdy in their floral cups and motley petals, pay homage to Prince Spring; hiding, shy, behind curtains of mist ‘til summoned to sing by King Sun.

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