Note … this poem was first published on the 25th of September, but outside of the title it has been completely re-written.
Feather and Shadow
Feather laying on the grass,
Ethereal and light
A memento of a gull
Thoughtlessly left behind …
Heavenwards it flew away
Eastward towards the dawn,
Released from duty off it went
Away, from the noonday sun.
Noon bells peel in cacophony,
Down in the bustling town
Silently I turn to go,
Homeward bound I leave behind
All my fantasies …
Did a feather fly into the morn
Or was that just a dream?
Wistfully I wish, that somewhere it is real.
© G.s.k. ’15
I found this lovely quote on Imaginary Garden with Real Frogs … and think it’s beautiful:
“I believe that imagination is stronger than knowledge. That myth is more potent than history. That dreams are more powerful than facts. That hope always triumphs over experience. That laughter is the only cure for grief. And I believe that love is stronger than death.”
― Robert Fulghum, All I Really Need to Know I Learned in Kindergarten
cock crowed at five
lusty lad an early raiser
Down through the valley I see,
Antennas growing everywhere.
Wonder who’s watching TV
Now that dawn draws nigh?
Insomniacs … All night zappers?
Night owls without a choice?
Gracefully the sun tops the hills.
(N.B. Transferred Acrostic to Menu)
Purple and grey, without majesty just another hazy morning.
My early morning, another’s late night – now that’s relativity!
Good morning and have a great day! Bastet
(Through the Eye of Bastet – Morning Reflections)
Anyone can string letters in a row,
Challenging is making sense of them.
Reading newspapers or mags from the States,
Only make my head spin in frustrated irritation.
Noting that I know not their austere origins,
Yale laureates look down their snobby noses.
Madame, YNWI! (BTW, I just invented that),
So now you can figure out what YNWI means!
I posted a slightly different version of this poem on Poet’s Corner, Thank you Harry Mullen for publishing it!
A new prompt…a SAK Prompt from Sahm at the Arkside of Thought. He offers a great idea, write an Acrostic using the title of your favorite book…I LOVE ACROSTIC POEMS… so here goes!
Mystery writer, no longer wanting to be consumed like popcorn,
Refuses to compose or publish another novel
Gifted, he is and cannot live without writing!
When he sees some portraits of nudes he ponders and
Yearningly looks, then says: “I know what I can do!
Nothing less than portraits in writing on commission”.
Mr. Gwyn by Alessandro Baricco