Saturday, May 8, 2010

Beckoned into Grace

She came to my table
draped in green,
so I offered her a drink.
"No coffee or wine;
just water will do,"
she murmured quietly,
adjusting her skirts
to flow in textured waves
around her feet.

As I approach
to sprinkle blessings in her cup,

she bows her head in prayer,
and one sleek curl
escapes her chic coiffure:
its delicate perfection
beckons me into grace.

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