She Of The Field

Her stripes will never be white-washed
Her rudbeckia sun
Will never be tilled under
Love!
What cheapness have you done?

Your patch of earth, a briar field
Tall thistle lines your way
When beauty comes to ask you
Dear!
What answer will you say?

Expectant 

my Society
thought little of me

accept the breadcrumb trail
beg for a Holy Grail 

return home empty handed
scraps to be demanded

now I know what’s true
honor is for me too

my heart the goldest medal
demands that I not settle

Flowers

My prayer, my sisters 

Protection regardless of our own plans
Our story’s not finished yet

May eyes filled with light
Hook and tether our hearts 
And we will see who we are 

Strong Back

I know a Tailor
From a mystical place
A gypsy, her eyes how they flash
We talk of those men 
Those once-soulful men 
How we fell to them
Full, resolute, unabashed

Messy hearts she and I 
We examine history 
And debate on the whether at all
Those men knew their truth 
They did not we conclude 
For they flew by their mood
Yet we stand here firm in soul’s call 

This talk it’s served much
Our song it will be
We dance in the jeweled skirt of pain
The shades thrown open 
She returns to her pins
And it seems we’ll begin
To walk whole into love yet again