courtesy of Pinterist


wom: Sept 1 /’19 : vine


I wound da vine
around your breasts
and kissed the petals there.

I poured da wine
into the flute
and sipped the warmth in there.

You are divine
and firmly made
my pillar always there.

( All rights: Poland)


Pattern #18 Sphinx

"Bugs" Photo by Quenby

Photo by Quenby

black sphinx silhouette
face, breasts, lion, wings, cat, sun-god
savvy guard looks out!

Riddle#31 Ancestors

Matriarchal Avcestry

Dreams, it has been said, were the first poems and stories told around the fire in ancient tribal cultures. Jan Hutchinson

We gather, holding baskets
filled with fruit;
seeds and juices
of our loins.

Breasts ready to succor,
feet to serve,
ears to learn
what nurture needs.

Umbilical still grows,
Twists its lullabies;
In and out of sleep
and baths and blankets’ cover.

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