Sunday, June 01, 2014

For a Lulabell

Photo courtesy of Starry Night Media.

You wouldn't know to look at her
that death awaited at her door
her toothy sometimes toothless gaze
and giggly girly gushing love
grace that she poured on all of us.

Oh sprightly eyes and purple locks
your impish grin, your mismatched socks
so draw us to the mystery
of you, which is to all of us,
that gap between what is and seems.

No angel but with angels dwells
the Lulabell I’ll never see
but Heaven sent and Heaven claimed
your soul a flit, a flight, a fling
that traipses through our sweetest dream.
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