Magical

 

She is more magical

than a sticky-winged butterfly

unfolding from its hard shell,

the vivid arc of a bright rainbow

after the storm,

the muscular power of a thoroughbred

thundering across a field,

a full silver moon sailing

across a velvet night sky,

a virgin fall of powdery snow

awaiting my skis,

the scent of freshly cut grass

at the end of a summer’s day,

a glass of brunello di montalcino

sipped by the fire,

the staccato gunfire of high heels

crossing a marble floor,

a newly emerged desert flower

ephemeral in the sand.

 

She is more magical

than fervent wishes

unexpectedly coming true.

.

.

© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Not a new post. But sometimes there is magic.

Art by Gianni Strino