I Call Him Solomon The Sunday Whirl #264

​Coexistence throughout the course of summer:
From distances,
there’s power to approximate me on these roads
as it doubles my vision and
links me to the private signs
existing in hidden languages
mutable, or unspoken.
 
The body of her laughter emerges from the room
from here to the bridge,
I hear a man’s voice of fable intentions embroidering
​figures in the tapestry of flames
it burns creation where it can be dreamt again.
 
Beloved in memory my angels are veiled and
frozen by widows who mourn death,
I have been with them.
 
My hands inherited lightness from him
discovered amid the sparkle.
Bees forever love a flower’s sweetness.

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5 responses to “I Call Him Solomon The Sunday Whirl #264

  1. Somehow sorrow validates that we have loved, and by having done so, we are more real, as we go on breathing. Love this Pamela,

    Elizabeth
    https://soulsmusic.wordpress.com/2016/09/04/sometimes-cinderella/

  2. Gorgeous. I love that you’re writing so well.

  3. That last verse is as giddy and rich as pollen – I love this series Pamela – intimate in a way and yet resonant – I hope you are well xo

  4. My hands inherited lightness from him
    discovered amid the sparkle.
    Bees forever love a flower’s sweetness.

    One certainly remembers all the wonderful times together and like the bee will always look forward to it. Wonderful lines Pamelita! Glimpses of you now and then!

    Hank

  5. The last line capped it off sweetly!

I appreciate all comments.

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