Red Woman of the Sand
Grant Hope #91
Red woman of the sand
quietly wisped by the wind along the shore
your skin is finer than the smallest grain of sand
In the curls of your dark brown hair
there are feathers of cutting crimson
you are like a bird of the sea
traveling on a journey for all warm-weather friends to see
Your face communicates an assured grasping
of just when and where you’ll be
but just when you’ll leave and arrive is still a wondrous mystery
Slender arms stand behind firm breasts
racing to rolling waves of crimson red
rocking flowers
mellow vines
falling leaves
fruits and folds of the seas
ignite imagination of all the places you’ve travelled
what your ornate beauty is telling me
Sharply in red
cusping her tan
her vaulted wings and her legs strike an eye-catching stand
she may have her wandering mystery
but today she is here speaking surely to me
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