To Thrum a Glassy Stem On fragmenting taffeta mirrors Manacled to an earthen house Over two bending knees an iron chain Beetle, bone and stone Pine for a love unknown Though winged soporific dreams Lay sprawled, waiting expansive This my promise Blue The thought and its mandrel motion This my promise scarlet The blush of a ripened Fruit Lay long in sanguine laughter A bed the soft of heather Stashed in the branches breach Words to thin cracked leaves Like the folds of an angels wing Or the crack in a devils smile Poetry for kin and fey Or the unsuspecting seeker This my promise green The lilt in a voice that's laughing This my promise gold To sup with empty cup The pearl that contains all pearls The piece that evinces the puzzle On pealing taffeta mirrors To thrum a glassy stem