Cupid, like a Spring angel, embracing the passion of the Soul.
A Spirit whispering to kindred beauty... breathing love to produce a man.
Manipulating Goddess and boy to discover their essential life together as soulmates.
To ache in her arms never after, beneath the purple lust moon.
Her Romeo, his Juliet... trusting urges.
Like delicate rain mist ironing the world smooth.
Tonight I went to an art critique group right here in my home town, hosted by woodcut print artist Paul Bonelli. Everyone brought items from their own genre... charcoal, pastels, watercolor, printmaking. I brought this book I've been working on. I took this poem and had started to turn it into an "illustrated" book, but lost steam when I got hung up on the visual manifestation of some of the lines.