Treasure Island

Marshall Gass


Beneath the barricades of lotus fronds
and flowers, lurks beauty, brains
all watching the goddess of shadows
seeking respite from the burning sun
and banter of imagery that clings
delicately to the fabric of questions
seeking anonymity.

Once in a while the curtains draw
and a face appears. smiling, seeking
showing a glimpse of magical moments
tempting, teasing, wonderful
carved in a flash of inner beauty
that straddles the page
and withdraws back into the
folds of wonder.

' I bet the suspense is killing you! '
Who am I? ' She said sweetly.

I searched through all the pages of poetry
and people columns, ears to the ground
surging through swords and diamantes,
villanelles and wonders
swords and acrostics, aquatics
and wooded forests near tempered lakes
picnics and parks
and I watched the sunset settle
in a twilight sky of burgundy
and roses. All.

I did not find you heart beating
against my chest
or my words echoing its hypnotic
trance against your ears!

Anonymous it will be.

Author Notes
Round 4
© Marshall Gass. All rights reserved, a month ag

Submitted: Wednesday, April 09, 2014
Edited: Thursday, April 10, 2014

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Topic(s): metaphor

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