Mother’s day


Mother’s day

She breathes up orchids and  shimmering fescue
Across rounded breasts of hills, her hips
Girted by oaks and rowans’ knitted pithy meshes
Beaded birds litter her surfaces with fresh dung of seeds
Her hands supplicate and an arum snakes up her arm
The adder slides his silken skin inside her veins
Worms decorate her brow, the red mites
Beneath the lifted skirts of stone
Late unwinding snow  her wedding gown
Decay enriching each pore and space
She births and in the yawning gulf
A lake of gold-tinted  water flows
As dark flowers poke and spire
In ever arching coils, the days lengthen
Mating beam to shadow
Until the zenith hour.


Veronica Aldous 2016 All rights reserved


About Veronica Aldous

Writer and artist, Veronica is a lecturer is Fine Art and Creative Writing. Her first book of poems, 'Moon Cinema' is now available on Now there is also 'Mortal' her second book.
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