NOIR, THE PRIMROSE

Noir, The Primrose,

Within the moon we sat, a lofty raven and the spotted dove, driven meticulously through a broken, shifting zenith,
Where our feathers bloomed bioluminescent-ly setting aglow the silver, sighing sands, and the forsaken, fragile stardust,
A must we galavant as our beaks drown dearly beneath the brim of a soul reaving zinfandel, hued thusly thy everberry,
Marked thereof water lilies whispering about those dragonflies that waltz remarkably around their Victorian crown,
Elated art we masquerading amidst the sunbeams edging this horizon, kissing prolifically, suddenly from a noble dawn,

Vagary, unto thee indigo sky we walked dressed in a fabric, which hunts deeply an astronomical star-studded nebuli,
Transit in ultra-violet bejeweled much like the primrose,… one courting a celestial Virgo embalmed of rosemary,

…Mother Mary,…

A taste belonging to a sweet pinot noir rests easily upon her lips, as I found a welcoming bless inebriated by the virgin Primitivo,
Ergo, the raven murmurs in riddles at times, Bellissimo is our Destino my beloved noir, and what echoes is what tends to ripple,
Such as the cosmos conversely, such is a drop of wine said to flood this teal, aster ocean, seaside as we view a gilded orrery,
While thy emotions, hand by hand to my devotion eclipses a notion paired with butterflies,…episodic it all seems,

Encompass a pagan theme, as we bathe ourselves in these delightful, coded chardonnay dreams,…. fulfilled yet un-sated,
Henceforth, I ask,…how is the cabernet, and the riesling I wonder? And, the wineberries fermenting among God’s vineyards,
Soma for all, as we watch tiger lilies sway adjacent to those pearls rumored to ignite thee evening, along with that spotted dove,
Surrounded by turquoise fireflies, whisking towards her angelic form,…my Gabriela, a lily transformed, hereby adorned, moreover adored,
Embellished upon the evergreen, ever emerald, forever thus, fixated as phenomenal, revered as the world’s capulet,…listen,…

… “Deum De Flos,”….

Did you hear it? If so do tell,
More Sauvignon blanc, more phantasms, and fantasies, for God’s flower, has come to misplaced his unjustly throned chaplet,
In regards to this, needless art are each of these vibrant amulets and those priceless bracelets when ambrosia seeks to ale the inevitable,
Inconceivable is thee unfathomable, although the Soave’s aroma which seeps, reigning throughout the moon’s atmosphere translates,
Tangible sits our minds as we parley moments contextualized, therefore, sovereign to paradise we speak without dismay,
Or uneven Ellipses,…simply stating a fifth-dimensional thought may curve, but a spatial thyme will always bloom un-hilted,…

As a raven often wish to be something more,…the moon lingers as my only friend, and that benevolent dove my one, and only muse,
The wine my thorn and my dreams,… illustrated art merely that is not,…
A nightingale sings as I drink, et singing unto a god thereof my delicate lily, something marked as my fragile life,
Ripples to echo, a destiny I find beautiful as nothing will forestall my return, a promised resurrection gifting a revelation,
The reflection to mirror I see is but a fowl gripping a glass teeming with merlot to remedy a noir mood set in indigo,…

Stella unto my chalice, your cup until they are both held empty, however, endless is the well that seems to indulge in a false euphoria,…

~ Renee Verona

Thank you for your support!

Please leave this field empty

SUBSCRIBE

SIGN UP TO RECEIVE THE LATEST POETIC WRITINGS BY RENEE VERONA

We don’t spam! Read our privacy policy for more info.

Check your inbox or spam folder to confirm your subscription.