"her night's performance"

a bough gently leans
across the calm,
still lake.
its reflection
pulls to the sky
and softly kisses
the brow of each cloud,
leaving a slight indentation
from which rain will now fall.

extend the branches
of this already
growing tree,
so they may touch
the beauty of your face
and create green
of this newborn leaf
so it may unfurl upon
the tray of my soul
and i may serve you.

twilight twinkles
as the day removes her dress
and slips upon herself
her black cloak.
she twirls for him,
the cascading sun,
as she paints the sky
a myriad of colours
from the palette
of his blaze. slowly
he bejewels her
with his stars and
pins a crescent moon
in her hair. now
she is ready for
her night's performance.

`T. Imaan Tretchicovmanicova
17aug05