GHOST WRITING

Photo by Jr Korpa on Unsplash

Christmas roses bloom in the dying of the light
it’s not a rose it’s a beautiful buttercup, slight
like the golden marvels we used to decide
which side our bread was buttered, when granny was alive.


Was the yellow reflected on your chins?
No, these flowers resemble wild roses — poisonous to humans –
helleborus niger macranthus –
 enough to tangle any tongue, no doubt.

Words will weave their magic:
On the palate or the plate.
Thinking is believing
It’s never too late.

For there’s a shadow there, behind the sun,
 made of words, it echoes and is no fun;
 I transform myself into the music of the birds,
 brim full of all the lives at stake,
 as all hearts-ache observes.

Years pass by like phantoms,
 like the passions of the heart,
 silences breed silence, that's the faeries’ part.
 Forget what you remember,
 give and never take,
 replace the veils of the mysteries
 that were mirrored in the lake…

Stake all that has been lost:
no longer plead, beg, yearn or flop
perceive the mystery of the seas
for all that is, is not.
 Forget the days that pass,
 half-create a stillness that will last,
 glimpse what wraps around our dreams;
 now the air's becoming chill, it seems.

 

 

◄ Shadowland

For Kassia: a bold and beautiful Byzantine poet ►

Comments

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Paul Sayer

Mon 9th Nov 2020 11:55

How right you are Graham.

John if I had just a pound for every music link you have posted that made me cry, I could fill a bath with the tears.

This has led me to this...

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/07nOSuzdKRUb2e3sxrqSdQ?si=U_OKdNm1RPaJXgIyYyvMPQ

Thank you!

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Graham Sherwood

Mon 9th Nov 2020 11:03

Hope Sandoval's voice is just perfect and suits this melancholic piece just as perfectly.

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Paul Sayer

Mon 9th Nov 2020 08:19

Love the addition of that pic.

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Paul Sayer

Sun 8th Nov 2020 22:54

John, this was the perfect ending to a very imperfect day.

So I thank you for another delightful musing.
Paul.

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