weight of shadows
cracked reflections
hunched, humbled
clenching forlorn wants
oblivion beseeches a cloak
of velvet
to hide within its folds
the truth
illusory venerations
blighted fantasies
of our
sweet minuet
weight of shadows
cracked reflections
hunched, humbled
clenching forlorn wants
oblivion beseeches a cloak
of velvet
to hide within its folds
the truth
illusory venerations
blighted fantasies
of our
sweet minuet
Editing Stage: Editing - rough draft
Comments
ruse
rustle tapestry visions
a dream or morn
caught livid
velvet
rope
cord
carpet
the sky today
is Rayleighs blue
I feel softness in the hot
hand of sunlight
the sounds of city
pouring through the channels
memories hop from stone to
stone
admiring the golden depths
the pooled deep
swift turning vortices
the dance
the keywound
jewelry box
like lifes secret treasure
the grove
of shape and shadow
Oh dancing the two step
Oh dancing the two step across the page,
this has rhythm, and style, how I enjoyed it,
well written poem.
Love Ann.
an X
a steamer waiting room at an old resort landing I did a great photo shoot..she was tiny ..attractive with short pixie hair and great eyes....long coat...abandoned....winter...it was cold...we would write on typewriters..listening to bryan ferry and dancing at Deerhurst before Shania Twain was discovered there..she worked with some other girls in the upper office...showing management about....a different time.....lately been online with some other women....delving talking...people are brilliant but have their ghosts....like mad max...sometimes restless haunted and well defended....Brilliance though....I never ws bright like them.....but looking back how they liked my Shine..thinking how madness is beyond even they at times....way out there.........way out there...