Wayfarers Guide: Raven

Wayfarers Guide: Raven

Midnight colored was the cloak worn
upon the body, night crossed black
eyes while aloft beyond Earths

I compared this to my vision of you.

Whether covered by cap, veil reveals
the most stunning mantle found.

Claiming the darkest of night to
brightest of days; your hair is a
covering of reverberating beauty
from head to ground.

Shunning given norms of
personal space, I was riveted, as
intrigued, fascinated; I fell under
your spell.

I saw as the wind played with softest
of tresses, sending them gently,
almost tenderly across your face.
I stood fixated, not from afar,
perhaps in calling distance not far

You were the star of the show, this
life. My admiration grows daily don’t
you know, not fawning is healthy,
loves growth should be slow.

Warm skin, enhanced with bangles,
and lace. Gloves and wrist covers
from full sleeves to hands perfectly
adorned builds toward your gentle

The blouse, shirt or sweater you don
merely becomes a secondary feature
when covering your body; you are the
foundation of beauty which GOD
used like a fresco for the completion
of you HIS masterpieces.

Each opening in lace is the frame
for a tender portrait that lies behind.
Every opening is a masterwork of
purest beauty as skin and lace
performs a feminine dance that
intrigues the mind.

A complex humanity is housed
within, so much honor, and life’s
deepest mysteries, intelligence you
possess having much to share.

Deeply entrenched are values of
woman’s persona; man sought to
define woman in a myriad of ways.
Man remains befuddled as a
stumbling babe in her complex day.

Able to share for those in her
life, deemed necessary she will touch
across all races and creeds, whether
in peace or amid strife; it is a
motherhood value. What a wonderful thing.

Paths diverge and part as is her choice,
when she shares what wondrous magic
she can impart, not one magician has
managed to recreate her granted ability.
Nature is not all the time fair, her

Giving, whether natural or not.
Abilities giving not into fear, not
intimidated by tasks. She can fight
as well as love those she chooses
and many count themselves blessed
who stand in her favor.

Drifting on unseen air currents, my
heart reaches for you. My net is
cast but comes back empty.
So lost in what is not, I think on the
values and joy, the mysterious
complexity of women.

Our world is fortunate.

The raven drifts out of my sight.

Poetry Thursday