Contemplation of your beauty is like
The cold mist
It refreshes
And it bites
It tingles my nostrils
And empties my body of it's flame
Like the prick of coming tears
It widens my lips and glosses my eyes
Contemplation of your mystery is like
The cool fall
It enfolds me like a turtleneck
And transforms me with its colors
It makes me feel dashing and handsome
And warms my hands with coffee and apple cider and cocoa
It is perfection
And it is gone
Beautiful! Oh, the sweet smell of fall and the sweetness of God to go with it!
ReplyDeleteLOVE the graphic--good poem, too; thanks!
ReplyDelete