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Her Song
Contributed by
Spike
on
Friday, 6th March 2009 @ 06:35:17 AM in AEST
Topic:
fantasy
|
Down in the everglades, where the
alligators yawn at primal shades
and the mists of time curl around the past,
I wait there for her sign
And when she calls me through the moon
or the solo squall of the mystery loon,
I draw myself into a form
and ply the darkest path
I tread forests under fat moonlight,
driven on by promised delights
of love and lust and union till
the stars fall from the sky
As the wind whistles over snow capped hills
the lonesome cry of the whippoorwill
stills my heart to echoing rest,
until blood runs cold in its veins
Yet forge ahead, there is no choice
when driven by a sirens voice;
Ill love her till the world is done
and the stars wink from the sky.
Copyright ©
Spike
... [
2009-03-06 06:35:17]
(Date/Time posted on
site)
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Re: Her Song
(User Rating: 1 )
by venkat on
Friday, 6th March 2009 @ 07:46:05 AM AEST
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a Message)
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Its a charming, mysterious fan song, heard through the moon made the lover to manifest..it is amazing..I enjoyed it..
God bless.. Dear Spike..I recently read one of your poems which has been pointed out by Tim on a forum for best poems of this site....
thats absolutely a wonderful poem. I appreciate you.
venkat |
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Re: Her Song
(User Rating: 1 )
by Former_Member on
Friday, 6th March 2009 @ 03:39:42 PM AEST
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this is world class poetry once again. the imagery in this is just astounding and it flows beautifully. a magical write.
-phil |
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Re: Her Song
(User Rating: 1 )
by Jenni_K on
Friday, 6th March 2009 @ 06:29:55 PM AEST
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Quite surreal.... It left me in awe... Great write..
Jenni |
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Re: Her Song
(User Rating: 1 )
by elle on
Friday, 13th March 2009 @ 11:01:37 PM AEST
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| allure. . .allure. . . |
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Re: Her Song
(User Rating: 1 )
by Former_Member on
Sunday, 19th April 2009 @ 06:02:31 PM AEST
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Spike, my friend, firstly the picture you chose is absolutely brilliant.
This reads like a soft, gentle dream and sometimes a dream in the night can be mysteriously beguiling, no?
Right from the first line, I was lost to it. The fantasy of merging into our own imaginations and breathing the
dream as if it were our oxygen is utterly thrilling.
I've read this over and over and there is one word that just keeps coming to mind--magical. Yes, there is magic
running barefoot through this. Especially that last verse. Damn, poet! Now that is stunning.
Beautiful writing, but in a way that doesn't seem too gushy, you know?
~ Breezy
(who is maddeningly jealous! :P) |
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