Lily savage

Lily Savage

In the dead of night it takes flight

Soaring high above the heavens on swan’s wings

Powerful and thrusting

Beating majestically

Held poised,

completely trusting.

Spring, Bubbles which seethe like hot laver streams

Devouring passionately all and everything that lies between

With the ferocity of a lions roar ready to tear and nor

With teeth so blade like,

Glistening wet,

With dripping jewels of crystal waters

Its flight is constant never taking a breath

Migration is its quest until dawn begins to light the still skies

Morning arrives to show your eyes smiling

The rise and fall of your breast,

Gently purring

As I glide gracefully from beneath your satin clouds

You are at peace now nothing can harm you

I have made it to the other side

And my last gesture of time spent in long flight

Is a lily placed strategically in the midst of your flowing white hair,

And a note which reads briefly;

“Thank you. I missed you.”

My sig-nat-ure.

Placed carefully on your dressing room chair.

Sean Benjamin 2005