A Feather, as Delicate as Whispers

A Feather, as Delicate as Whispers

A feather, as delicate as whispers,
wrapped within a wrinkled page
scratched with ink, poetry
and old stories that speak

of swords assualted by sunlight
as they’re brandished against
the shadows welling
in the hearts of dragons

and sorcerers, a page,
tucked between the twisted stems
of lavender and chamomile
in a meadow that invites the wind

to flirt with each painted petal,
will collect the enchantment
sprinkled as dust on the soft leaves,
the grass, tall and green,

as the morning’s cool air
gathers like a pool beneath
the trees, a page and a feather
sugared with magic hidden

among the flowers, a treasure
graced with the wealth of a child’s dreams.


Soon, I’ll find a feather and wrap it in a sheet of paper etched with this poem. Then, I’ll take paper, poem, and feather, hide it and hope someone will find it and wonder…


9 thoughts on “A Feather, as Delicate as Whispers

  1. Would you mind being in the poet’s corner this week on my blog? I’d love to use this poem with a paragraph from you telling a bit about you. If not, let me know and I’ll just reblog this one. I love it. You can add a second favorite, too, if you want.


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