a bluebell’s mad ballad.

Chimes,

chimes blue

like the eyes
brown

or green
bursting-out

from a woman’s

face,
tastebuds

of the sky
laden

with sounds

on which Spring

rides
madly.
Chimes,

chimes blue

like handmade

sweat pearling
desperatly

on the skin.
Chimes,

chime blue

and loud
like freckles

of blood
in the brier

from a hand

alight
with desire

for the forbidden

flower.
Chimes,

chimes blue,
and Spring

—away
madly rides

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

______________

diana-heyne

Photo: Diana HEYNE

 

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