Virtue her’s is beauty
She hesitates then pounces
And in a flounce of majesty
A reverie of gracefulness
Swoops to savage the delicacies of a dew-sodden dawn
Reap the rewards of a cold rancid morn.
Narcotic silence
Renders love unto my soul
Removes the talons from my heart
Her beauty numbs the pain of death.
Alison Jean Hankinson
This is for the open link night at d’verse.
The image is Common Kestrel in flight from wikimedia.
Share this:
Hues of Hankinson 
The two verses are seemingly so very different but somehow there is a connection there. “Narcotic silence”…that says a lot and really grabbed my attention. Thank you for participating!
Gayle ~
LikeLiked by 1 person
I like the idea that the kestrel’s beauty numbers the pain of her prey at death.
LikeLiked by 1 person
The beauty of the kestril and how it’s also death is a great juxtaposition
LikeLiked by 1 person
Narcotic silence
Renders love unto my soul
Removes the talons from my heart
Her beauty numbs the pain of death.
Powerfully penned!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Somehow I doubt the beauty of the kestril numbs the pain of its prey, but it’s a nice thought! I love the term “narcotic silence”.
LikeLike