in the garden where
she dances
feet swirling like snow
are kissed by dusky
earth,
tender and suppliant.
waving arms juggle the
sun
flashing windmill shadows
across a smile of secret
pleasure.
eyes half closed,
the ecstasy of light
a warm lover
of infinite patience
and kindness.
her madness of hair
long and elusive
storms like clouds of
sand
high above tiny islands
of gay blossoms
in waving seas of spring's
green
in the garden where
she dances.
in the garden where
she dances
rose tipped flesh
shivers with the shy
caress of summer cloth,
soft and light as coloured
air.
sweet sweat gathers
in delicious pools
in the thirsty hollow
of her back,
while her perfect perfume
boils wildly in the
vale of her hunger
in the garden where
she dances.
in the garden where
she dances
a cloud bursts into
divine prisms
which fall soft as tears
onto her upturned face.
her dress clings in
holy abandonment
to her spinning beauty
as tickling tongues
of rain
gently lick the dust
from the golden down
of her thighs
in the garden where
she dances.
in the garden where
she dances
the moon like silver
footprints
shines in the pools
left by her dancing
feet
on the ribbon of dark,
musky earth.
drowsy droplets doze
gently
like fairy crystals
on the petals and leaves
of the fragrant witnesses
to her splendour,
while she lies quietly
in her bed of stories
and dreams the dreams
of a dancer
and the garden where
she dances.
Words by Patrick Chappelle 1998
Paintings by Marcio Melo 1998
E-mail: art@marciomelo.com
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