Ottoman Rose

I arose in the dim,
In that light that swirls
From the breath of a lark’s first song,
The crickets long ago
Having crossed their legs,
The sky still dreaming.

I stood in the stillness
Wrapped in a skin of burmese,
As summer’s first blush
Crept from violet whispers,
And smoky lilac secrets crawled the fields,
This rim of the sky simmering,
Steeping, brewing first light.

The sky wall blossomed,
A field of gilt rimmed heather,
Snapdragons smoldering,
Marigolds bowing
To the majesty of an Ottoman Rose.