Pastel Dalliance


Morning comes shyly wrapped in a pastel gossamer gown.  Like buttery silk she flows across the eyes.  Lavender, gray and subtlest robin egg blue; a misty, smokey, mysterious woman is she.  Serene, she’s still pale-star-dusted from her late night dalliance; the barest blush still in her cheeks.  Softest wisps of silver-cloud-curls drift as she floats on a temple tapestry of flute, lost in her devotion, off to meet the afternoon.

A small stone in River of Stones entry.

Copyright Jean Mishra 2012

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