All The Things Gentle: Poetry

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10/11/2021

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She loves like the scent of petrichor.

Intoxicating but light,

Gently perfumed by touches of morning

With words that flutter like

Filters of dawn between leaves.

Her laugh a spare note

Aloft a midsummers gale,

Blithe and untroubled.

Faithfully at ease wherever

The skys may take her.

Her eyes ripple in hues of honey,

Like heavy breaths let loose

After the soothe of strong coffee,

mesmeric and bold

and raveled carelessly of youth.

Her gaze like slow dances,

Wrote across the sky,

Twinkling softly to the sounds

Of old stereos

And first glances upon marble floors.

Her smile,

Like strokes of silk upon bare skin

Like plays of Shakespeare

And sculpting of Michelangelo

bound by the crackle of soft flame

And let loose like Friday sunsets.

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- Isa Ul-Hassan