Thursday, 24 May 2012

The Feather Duster

Shocking Pink
Yet you hide away
When the cleaning lady calls.

When she's gone -
You creep out with me
And we party
All around the house.

You coil cobwebs
Like shimmering bathrobes
Around your tempting feathers,
You love to linger in dark places
No other eyes will see.

Sometimes -
On family days,
You pretend to be a Pirate's cutlass
Or the broomstick of a Witch.
And once,
You were a Magic Wand,
Weaving spells of dreaming spires
And fairies
That only live in Angel's dreams.

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