Iris of Spring

November 15, 2017

Iris of Spring

you sprout luxurious
from your false bed of snow.

Enrobed in your splendid yellow and green,
so soft, so languid,

your willowy arms



your legs, concealed in a curious tangle

Your face, a wisp of woken wonder.


You unfold                                                                             

quietly, tenderly,

tall and tempting


invite me to gaze, to touch

to linger

in your faint drowsy fragrance.

How came you to be like this?
What did you all winter
lying nestled in your frigid muddle of soil:

the earth, your covetous lover

the sun, feverish with want

the frost, a wicked reminder of your cruel absence.


Iris, I spy you couched in mystery

and yearn to seize you

long to capture your wondrous bloom


snatch you from your bold innocence

place you in a vase to adorn love’s altar

to watch and wonder and adore.


Come now, let us not regret the future.

Let us revel in this brief moment.

Let us embrace this elusive season of bliss.


For Spring shall shed it silken sheen

Summer will rise,

then tumble into Fall


and I left here, alone,

as you surrender once again

to Winter’s icy grip.


I shall await your resurrection.

Steadfast, I shall remain here,

agonized, canonized 


as my longing, like the weeping stars,

endures the cold, bitter night.


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