Through the Pinhole
There is a pinhole in the windowpane
So small yet so captivating, brought forth to my eyes
Rinsing the air steep in global ray
Showering red roses perilously floundering outside
The stars vanish with the running of the wolves
As nighthawks peer forth into an anaemic moonlight
While the rabbits forge in fray of cresting rye
To be in beaming beginnings intervening a brazen night
To clarify what I see, where I need not be surprised
From view of windowpane in flood of heavens beauty walking by
Who is that girl that steps forth to be within the rose of my eyes
Where I to be pricked by thorns to be willingly beside her side
What divine creation waits for love through windowpane
For beauty flowers as a wild horsem never to be rode or tamed
As my eyes gaze upon her silken curly yellow mane
In poetic temple of shine in hope to brave the breath of her name
All rights reserved 08/09/16
Norman Francis
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