Flaming June

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Flaming June…a bride of Summer…

Someone’s daughter, someone’s mother.

Sleeping like a beauty, beneath

the beating sun.

Feels like the very first time,

the colors of her mind 

were lost to days of wine

and roses…

Close your eyes and sleep June,

let the lonely days pass,

It will all come together…

Nothing sad shall last.

Think about the Beatles,

lost in marmalade skies…

Think about Aerosmith,

flying away from here,

Think about Lord Leighton

and his lapis rooms,

think about Tutankhamun 

and his golden tomb.

You are the Sleeping Queen,

hosting words, lost to time.

You are the harbinger, 

a messenger divine.

Sleep pretty baby, do not cry…

just sing a lullaby…

Echo from the stones,

hum beneath green hills.

Music of the spheres,

reveals the tales of old…

Waves of heartsound

speak through souls of gold.

“whisper, whisper mumble

do this or maybe that…”

whatchamacallits and thingamajigs

seeping in subconcious.

Is she dreaming,

or awake?

Is she living…or

just alive.

(C) Christine Wichman 2014

Flaming June