She steps out of a magical, mystical dream…
into the wet mist of a heavenly soft rain…
gliding on poems and hymns of redemption…
she moves into a moment of peace and repose…
a glorious morning alive on the shore…
as the mountains awake to the shrill of trumpets…
tympani drums rumble from the cliffs…
the echo of angelic voices in the wind…
golden valleys and rich green forests…
stretch and reach to the high sacred sun…
pink smiling clouds and turquoise birds…
gather to sing at her sweet smelling feet…
her flaming lips quiver with a seductive kiss…
her sparkling eyes a diamond’s pure glow…
flowers bloom in her flowing silken hair…
the sheen of the stars dancing on her skin…
her liquid soul bleeding into eternity…
as she slips and falls into a pile of dog shit…
(c) Billy Batson, Saber-Tooth Poems.
