Leanne Margaret

Unfold, soul's growth Refining colours, rose Hail, garden's nose. Though thorny and pricked Against honeyed bee tricks This makes roses grow most thick. Fruiting from black soils Blooming wormy spoils Refined anointing oils. Rosy lotus hues From mud's watery blues Risen being, lights imbued Bridging lunar sunshine's truth Startling, even as it soothes. Leanne Margaret © 2013

Yin and yang dividing things, interweaved, divining strings  of thinking, senses, inked. Bit of black, bit of white dualities apparent fight freeing fortune's wings. Hemispheres, losers's tears post-traumatic fears shrieking, soured songs they sing. Child born and child made if born in love, then by fear stayed choked by karma's ring. Yet colours deep, exhale the weave day's contrast defines the eve sweet with honeyed stings. Tear not apart the silk to flags condemn with fire, waste to rags give each a patch, to thread, to link. Compete not there, for earthly spoils ravaged from her un-soothed soils weave Earth's quilt with all in mind and only all can win. Leanne Margaret © 2014