What makes her so

She approached, softly,
a pink flamingo perched
upon a frozen lake, each step
a fluid motion creating
a sensual languid moment,
the tableau hers alone,
time stopped to watch,
oceans ceased movement,
the air held its breath,
she is the whisper of mist,
lilac scented crystal dew,
a lover’s passionate sigh,
the space she occupies, a
captivating sacred temple,
where others fail, what
makes a woman so, what
magic does she possess,
in a field of weeds,
she is that one blossom
standing alone, rising
above the common grass,
her entrance silences a room,
it is not beauty, it is grace,
that indefinable essence of a woman.

©2014, Donald Harbour

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3 thoughts on “What makes her so

  1. And so John, you are right, thank you for defining the poem for me. Recently, I watched a woman walking down the side walk surrounded by humanity. As she advanced the multitudinous sea magically parted for her. She was a beauty.

    Like

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