Hidden

Precariously written, precariously hidden…
her words lay beneath the labyrinth of all that was ‘normal’.
Coloured in the shades of all that was grey,
they never saw the light of the day…

Her moves mirrored stealth,

her eyes emitted Athenian wealth.
She bore in herself a vessel so vast,
only infinity could fit the cast.

Beware!
For ferocious are her ways.
She can set the ice ablaze.

For her vessel might drown you
and her light blind you;
her words baffle you
and her thoughts scar you…

 There she is!
Dressed in purple and neon,
and colours astounding,
lost in a wonderous oblivion,
our harmless little literary wildling.

Image: Saint Catherine’s Labyrinth © Jan L. Richardson