Flying Fever

Something incredible—a mind of diamonds; and so many

Gems, my topaz dream. Such lightnin’ aflame, the body

Of Spirit. And so silent, my soul—scaling skies. Thus,

Weigh the grains, my fairest love, wake the fever. For

Something incredible, treks the heart; and esoteric—this

Valley blind. Such chills, to part the soul; and such flame,

The smiles of God. Indeed, my breathless stone, a void—

That speaks. And so scattered this vase of violets. But

Such the emptiness, a falcon’s cry; and eagle vision,

Cringes—such nightmare. Thus, harvest—a cherub’s

Prayer; whereby, fields—infuse the Spirit. For in truth,

My haunted love, the wiles of war; and pyrrhic truth, a

Conscious tear. Indeed, a sheltered passion, storms the

Soul; and flying fever, frames the form.