The temple of the wind

Deva elemental

Cinderella

off the hook

turns wings

flying carpe diem capestries

stand the breeze a long cool sip

superlicious Mamas won'tcha

Lord it's hot up in here

emerald frames the sleeping flower

hummingbird fan whirring

high spirits indeed

the with thee

and the woo

the warp and the weft

a stitch and one under

another roving over

to meet the truest lover

in the house made by the mirror

the weaving breathing

rings of silver

on the right finger

of the left hand abandoned

dead on

a zombie

with the baby bone teeth

the wet brick walls

ivy chokes the wrought iron

only as a symbolic gesture

who's to say

it's not all just fragmented memories

of an induced coma dream

(might as well be

for all it's worth)

as we lie in St James infirmary

having succumbed temporarily

to the wounds from an assault upon love

here comes the doctor now