Mountain Top

 

Mountain Top

Bourbon butterscotch brightens to a shiny penny

before the hold of a sky matching your blue eyes

mixes with cucumber waters,

rushes past woodland lichen and pussy willow,

life-giving sustenance caressing

ancient paths and chaste mauve lips

both thirsting for past and present to be

vineyard and vine;  for all,

for one.  A mountain is mighty

but beneath a tree branch, 

a flannel grey sanctuary for two,

the glacial stream curls by

as fauna and curling willow

turn your eyes to candied lavender

and mine to Celtic green

as we picnic and drink 

from mountain waters, settle ourselves, 

become lovers.

***

This ancient pathway our spring nectar,

where summer coneflowers and yarrow bloom

and fall's fiery hue yields to winter's alabaster drape

and the tawny owl blinks 

into a raven-wing night blessing each season,

blesses us as we return

beneath peppercorn sky ablaze with the northern star;

refined amber above windswept cliffs whistling 

a serenade to love.

by Margaret Bednar, December 7, 2020

I wrote this poem to an expired challenge over at "dVerse Poets Pub - Synesthesia" - write a song full of colors.   I wouldn't say this is a song, but it is a poem.  I am linking this up with "Poets and Storytellers Writers Pantry #49".