Art nouveau smile
tapered in gold,
she peeks behind crimson
curtains and ivy lace.
She is a spark,
crackle and whistle
with cupid bow lips
and delicate wrists.
She reminds me to play.
In her light green drapery,
there is life as it swirls
around her legs in a wave
of evergreen.
The stain glass of her wings
reflects my childhood
and I can catch glimpses
of it running between the rays
and the shadows of her gaze.
Poetic Trials 