Lilacs, lace,
and a cascading, blueberry welcome,
swing upon my refining perimeters
of color infusion, and delicate
sensuality, again.
To contrive in its
watercolor-bath,
meanings of binding the spirit and essence
of individuality, and revolving beauty.
Yet undiscovered,
yet unseen,
by a sleeping imagination
the crux in the fever
of the moment or not.
That there could only be one way,
of being fully resourceful
in its pure existence,
of its pure delicate understanding.
The bisque tone and hue
some statements of serenity,
leave
with their misty, glowing presence.
The priceless freedom
the gift of itself
in its nature,
it remains bare to the bone.
Chiseled from playful visions
a heart's daily execution,
of its own giving or not.