Pandora's Box
Within the box
Came the light
Spiralling into the smothering depths
Through the sinning lullaby of siren song
An underworld
a stone cold lake
Wherein stood a castle
Wherein behind a door of yew
A library for the gods
Books and discoloured prints
Laid scattered
All about the floor
Furniture
Small dusty web strands
Tangled spanned
Stacked books like delicate bridges
Air motionless
Thick
Musty
It smelt richly pungent
Liken to that of winter stored apples
Streaming shafts of afternoon
Lit bound volumes
Antique colonnades
Reaching from floor to ceiling
Fleeting blurred images
Climbed a wide staircase
Polished handrail
Deep sumptuous carpeting
Ornate gilt-framed oil paintings
Hung on dark panelled walls
Echoed with distant faraway voices
Tiny bells rang and chimed
Gilt edged leaves of an opened volume
Vivid illustrations
Ancient penned prurient splendour
Detailed in most unusual narrative
Breathless with desire
Myriad of touches against skin
Enveloped like warm wet mouths
While cool fingers
And
Sweet perfumed hair
Guided sweet caresses
Into oblivion
Anthony Emmerson
Sat 22nd May 2010 01:57
Hi Gus,
A worthy intro to the theme. You're right of course - you can't win the cake - but this might take the biscuit!
Regards,
A.E.