The Wait

.

And she will dwell

in a cottage of white

and wait for him

at the river’s edge

with birds and breezes

tending the trees.

And they’ll be coming

through the woods,

the poets and flutists

late at night

and after they’re gone

she’ll dance naked

through

the wildflowers

beneath the moon

a yellow ribbon

tied around her heart.

.

.

(c) 1995, 2017  Betty Hayes Albright

.

(re-post from 2012)

.

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A Poet’s Blood – 2011 post

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A poet’s blood

flows to the brain

and out again

with just one change –

the cells are richer,

colored by

a metaphor,

a mystic eye

that sees it all

from higher land

then bleeds on those

who understand.

.

(c) 1992, 2016 Betty Hayes Albright

.

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