The Kite (poem)

Languishing atop the wardrobe the kite dreamed
Of breezy, balmy days
Its painted eyes gazing fixedly at the sun
Watching the clouds racing ever westward
In their formless, fluid beauty
Weaving ever-changing patterns in the haze.
Its wings dipping, soaring
Plunging wildly, tossed, buffeted
Dancing on its tether dizzily at lofty heights
Circling, dipping, tugging insistently
Yearning to reach ever greater heights
For the earth to fall away
To ascend into stillness and solitude.
For the golden light to reflect and refract
The bright colours of its wings
Flashes of green gold and amber winking
As the kite darted, a fragile and exotic bird
Sun-kissed, transient, translucent
Its joy triumphant and uplifting.

The faintest tremor passed along its wings
Raising small eddies in the dust of thirty years
Light as gossamer but weighing heavily
Muffling and muting the hues hidden beneath
The invisible, yearning hunger of the kite
As once again it dreamed of flight.

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About Marie

An eccentric & quirky artist and writer who fills her time between fantasy roleplaying sessions with painting, writing and playing her guitar (rather badly). Usually to be found with paint-stained fingers surrounded by books and tubes of acrylic paint.
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