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...
A Birthday in April ~ Wordsworth Prompt from The Imaginary Garden with Real Toads (The first of three posts which will celebrate the l...
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...
The final images below are from my now defunct website which I decided to revisit (cannibalise, if you will) a while back. They are a few ye...
Below is the third - and, so far as I can tell at present, the final - draft of a poem for which I have been quite unable to find a title to...
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.