Priscilla of Titillating Courage
Priscilla of Titillating Courage
With smidgens of cereal we may choose to grind traces from
Grains of life truth sadness vagaries and the circle of being
Separate the wheat from the chaff only to find out we are
Looking at rye and need to indulge a wry smile now and then
At times the gristmill is too small and the task overwhelming
Clumps of ingredients cluster and clot the grinder of purpose
Yet when life gives us corn it rots or we make fine dust of flour
A treasure trove of sediment once the millers are up to the task
A spark of suspicion when mould has crept into salubrious silos
A tad of fallow sorrow borrowed from burrows and furrows
To complete what is one and feeds us from shadows of doubt
While it may seem we are chiselling fragments bit by slow bit
Priscilla the enlightened woman of wondrous marvel holds wisdom
But knowledge without action is futile and Yin seeks a complement Yang
When she meets Theo her courageous tiller soulmate and lover in waiting
Ambiguous scintillae conjoin embrace and rejoice at lips fingers and hips
They now harvest together in the nude of serene honesty are clothed in
Veils of crushing uncertainty much less or at least their mill moves together
They plant their seeds together water indulge in sensual acquaintance till
Their field arouse titillation and bake and break bread in passionate nibbles
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