She Be a Poet: Mystery Maker

Mystery in the making from opening my eyes
Knowing deep within my soul the secret there it lies
You won’t believe me when I say I’m ok not confused
You labelled me and there it stuck between my high-heeled shoes.

Mystery unravelling, blowing subtle breeze
Uncoiled and ready for the sun, sand grains caress my knees
What I can see may not be clear for vultures poised to taint
The present, an artists canvas, eager for me to paint.

I can tell what they remember so my mystery remains
Intuition like mighty Hercules, strong, refusing to wane
Speak to those who listen, they often tell us this
All ears at your first sentence, then kill you, deadly kiss.

My mystery is all I have it keeps my mind from madness
My dreams you know are safely kept, no drama or endless sadness.

© Michelle Sotiriou 2014