Fairy-tales of Meads

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Wisteria in Rapunzel tendrils,
wearing shades of dusk’s husky laughter,
in mauve, violet and lavender,
hangs its curly mane on chiseled silences,
for flirtatious moths to ascend
humming rhapsodies of desire.

The butterflies vain on dainty wings
flutter in scented zephyr,
preening themselves in dewy mirrors,
to hail themselves as
the prettiest of all those alive.

The love story of Clytia reiterates itself
from dawn to crepuscule
in the enamored gaze of lovelorn sunflower,
who droops at variegated twilight
to simulate the slumber of Sleeping beauty,
awaiting the golden kiss of prince sun.

The rose blushes in throes of first love,
basking in sunshine and drizzle
enthralled by the sublime melodies of lark,
it dreams of falling in love,
like the princess imprisoned in a castle,
until the robin with passion in its breast
paints rainbows on the canvas of its desires.

When snow drapes soil’s sunburns
salving its blistered realms,
from fertility’s womb emerges the daffodil,
as a fragrant, fragile snow white,
brightening the drab environs
with stardust sequined smiles,
under the shade of the dwarf-like boughs
covered in candy-floss snow.

Savoring these fairy-tales of nature,
unfolding in fragments of fancy
the soul is rejuvenated and spirit lightened
leaving tranquil symphony floating
in the depths of jaded existence.

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