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...
extract from the poem Koi by John Burnside All afternoon we've wandered from the pool to alpine beds and roses ...
A Birthday in April ~ Wordsworth Prompt from The Imaginary Garden with Real Toads (The first of three posts which will celebrate the l...
What makes us suppose that only the living grieve? Now all but lost in this new and familiar world of tall, leaning-together buildings...
Thursday, 21 March 2013
A place for everything,
my mother said,
and everything in its place.
But not so easy when
and spill out of their space,
when trees take root
where chairs alone should stand.
This is a concertina world...
the sun glides round, and as it moves,
light's bellows play
their silent, visual tunes:
a maple leaf, four jonquil blooms,
two maple leaves, an orchid (blue),
an orchid (white), two candle flames,
a chair back and a cushion. Stop.
Move self or head, stand up, sit
down. Relax. Move back. An image moves,
sets off a one-arm-bandit sort of roll.
Then STOP! and fancy that
you hear the fall of coins.
All things are possible
where shadows fall
on rays of light.
This palimpsest of rooms has several keys.
The subject was set as prompt by Peggy Goetz at Poetry Jam