Age Rating: 10 +
My Journey does not beckon to the swift of heart
or fleet of foot,
but to those who stay the course.
Come magenta colored morning, or ebony emanated evening;
the strictly straight and nonaligned narrow,
the calamitous crooked and wanderlust wide.
Acute anticipation, tick-tack-toe titillation;
a crisis of consideration,
I see smoldering passion
the perception of the Doppler effect,
donny-brook danger in your eyes.
A fetching catch in your voice;
the neophyte smile sketched on your oval face
spreads to your sprawling heart
in spotlight stroked caresses.
Cinnabar carillon touches, basilisk breaths intermingling;
a power surge of inspiration,
rampant reachings and raconteur teachings
display the poetry of matrices feelings
painted with quixotic phrases.
Tingling with reflective meditations
coloratura senses sway emotions;
sweet alyssum weaves with interlacing water lilies
waltzing in 3/4 time.
Adapting with élan easement, flowing flair of the spirited tempo;
we are fine claret,
fluid dancers smoothly changing,
those who write of substance, life, and love.