Monday, February 12, 2007

The Tulle Cloaked Bride - a Prose Poem

A ghostly apparition of I, drifting within the now familiar fog. Her gauzy veil silhouettes a softened landscape, leaving a world of vague shapes, lingering like enigmatic shadows.
Conifers spire toward the heavens, like renaissance towers shrouded in the lost world above.
Tiny birds bolt from nearby cedars; feathered darts shooting through her tranquil haze.
I breathe the dawn enchantress, knowing her to disappear with the heat of the day. I know not when she might return, to slink across my lawn with dewy steps, lick my eaves and caress the naked branches with a thousand gentle tears.
Tomorrow, the rains are set to lavish these whisper-soothed lands, like an insistent groom ravishing his tulle cloaked bride. The fog, she will succumb.

© Strauss
12th February 2007


Paul said...

Kind of Gothic...

tiffany et al. said...

very lovely and yes, a bit gothic but in the european gothic cathedral style rather than the black lipstick wearing style.