Canticle of Cantilever

Soaring in planes

in flights of fancy,

connected to heels

of brevity hounds...

Reaching for clouds

in angel stirrups,

the braying

knows no bounds.

 A treacle tart

to please the palette

in sing song 

rhyme she sings.

Serpentine chance,

she holds no malice

for the fortuitous

tide she brings.

Steeling in solace

as buttresses fly

upon teared

butterfly wings.

The lonely hearts open

in spite of the mortar,

as destiny's child she swings.