Gracious

Mutter mostly malicious,
dispenser of dare. By now,
you wear a scorning disposition,
and make meek the hands
of those who pose
thoughtfully in your shadow.
I and you among
the wilting weathers
will upright bended spines.
What are pillow puffs of lyric to us?
I and you who possess
only growth and power.
O wrathful, lustful flower,
hold proud your stamen
and disperse your thorns with ease.
While I on my knees tenderly
coax you towards
the bursting bliss you crave.

-r. miller

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