Wednesday, April 6, 2016

"Of a Tail Feather"

Image shared at Magpie Tales #311

Of a Tail Feather

A tail feather once slid
beneath fervored brow bent low
above ivory black,

love seductive, passion wet
upon parchment held and delivered
between strong hands.

Sun and time
have turned iron ink brown;
words whisper softly now

of an urgency not flashy.
No need to peacock love
as ornamentals are temporary,

worn upon a hat
or in the hair.  His words
were a songbird's, meant to surround

and help me fly.

by Margaret Bednar, April 6, 2016.

This is linked with "Magpie Tales: Mag 311"  

3 comments:

Sanaa Rizvi said...

Sun and time
have turned iron ink brown;
words whisper softly now

Such beautiful lines..!

Susie Clevenger said...

His words were a songbird's, meant to surround and help me fly. Beautiful line...Pain can create such a silent void.

phenixjira said...

Lovely poem... I really like how it ended!