[image - cloud queen, from google dot com]
OF LADY DEATH - HER SONNET
She is, who knows the notes of feelings,
The crescendo of rising into an ether,
That wondrous lilthing defrocking,
Soaring into chorus of Allelulias above
She is, who knows the scent of joyous,
Colour of nebulos, and taste of arise
That flight sensous, sonorous magical
Redirecting into curtesy of applause
She is who knows the mystery of victory
The emblems of infinity in counted curves
That first step into belonging, becoming
Vanishing into distance of textured clouds
Lady death a visionary, a shadow of thoughts
To a book already written in a scribe's hand.
OF LADY DEATH - HER SONNET © gillena cox 2016
Susie shared with us this excerpt from
If Death Were A Woman by Ellen Kort
I'd want her to come for me
smelling of cinnamon wearing
bright cotton purple maybe hot
pink a red bandana in her hair
She'd bring good coffee papaya juice
bouquet of sea grass saltine crackers
and a lottery ticket We'd dip
our fingers into moist pouches
of lady's slippers crouch down to see
how cabbages feel when wind bumps
against them in the garden
❧✿❧
[my video of choice today]
