The moon petals the sea. Rose petals the sea. Stone sea. Stone petals. Rose petals of stone. Stone rising before me. Sea moves. How moves...
Hello everyone who follows David King (My Father). On behalf of the family this post is to let you know that Dad sadly passed away, peacefu...
It all depends, you see, how you go about it. And that I cannot tell you, for that will be dictated by you and by you knowing your friends...
This post has in a sense been handed to me by two or three responses to my post On not getting it. In the course of discussing how a reade...
than I was when I was far more visible than I am now. Furthermore, numerous kind -- and tactful -- fellow bloggers have given me opportunit...
Saturday, 2 March 2013
The Shadow and the Glory (just another trireme sonnet!)
There is a shadow strolls through yonder glade
but is no threat, and has no axe to grind.
If it stood still, you'd think it one more tree...
except, part artifact, with windows made
to scan the woodlands, it essays to find
in all life forms, their commonality.
Disturbing hints are wrapped in light and shade,
of human thought by sylvan thought refined,
as though we were their old-time prodigy.
The shadow pauses where old wood's decayed
and fungus is a spongiform of mind.
Glory in life: in death, machinery!
Decay is their slow fuse to energy.
The woods restore themselves from memory.
I found working with yesterday's trireme sonnet particularly conducive, so have tried it again. The image is one of my Digital Doodles - again, I fear, not new to you.