The solitary rose of your breath

Angel light, a slight, feathery goodnight kiss,

behind her eyes a guardian angel sighs.

The whisperer behind the song,

A misfortune in thought is exorcised:

close harmonies, fugues when

nothing's wrong. 

A song in a minor key, a longing to be whole and free

Roll away the stone:

On this seafront there is a stone,

where, in the creamy moonlight of an old raggedy romance,

men and women pledge,

men and women dance,

under the moon

in a place where a single ghost abides... 

owls screech their ageless, endless  cries

to a high, star-cluttered sky.

It is a place  where all your dreams come true,

moonstruck eyes, derring-do,

 flee into the glassy sea,

echoing the old, old  story,

whisper it soundlessly,

enriched by such and such

wild sprigs  of  poetry.

Image result for coast butterflies painting


An Essential Melancholy ►


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Mindy Newton

Sun 7th Jul 2019 13:49

Aha, the saga goes on!

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John Marks

Sun 7th Jul 2019 10:17

Thank you kindly Missy Mindy. The wild sprigs of poetry live far over the sea, in the land of lost content, where the veil of the temple was rent in two, and the holy of holies was made a-new.

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Mindy Newton

Sun 7th Jul 2019 05:38

Wild sprigs of poetry" is haunting, a fit closing to this day-dream of a poem.

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