Violetta

[manofsteel73 (deleted)]

She planted roses and tulips on St. Agatha St.

Its' fatal car wrecks were written about in folk songs,

its' crime stories were legendary and

its' chaotic protests were well-organized

by dyed-in-the-wool hippies,

Saulteaux gypsies and poets.

She saw the street as a war-torn country

that she must beautify.

She anchors her heart in the soil.

The potpourri of wines and flowers race down

the street, but it is Violetta that always wins.

Her perfume is carried by a chariot breeze,

it is apparent, it is clear

that a Native princess lives, she is free.

Can't be denied, can't be controlled,

she is wanted and she could care less.

On St. Agatha she reigns under a magenta

where vaporous clouds give lavender rain

to hair of raven and bronzed skin

accented by turquoise and leather.

I watch as she launches a thousand ships

with her beauty, it is night.

The descendants of a by-gone era will emerge.

A time to glare, a time to malign, a time to fight,

a time to bleed and a time to kill.

In all of this she will be still.

A desert rose, a shrinking violet, she sees

the street as a war-torn country

that she must beautify.

She anchors her heart in her soul.





Puuguniyankut

[isabel16]

`Beautiful !!!!

[manofsteel73 (deleted)]

isabel16 wrote: `Beautiful !!!!

thank you, honey.