poetsday
not the minutiae of Life but still a two-minute poem
woolgathering
swimming against the nighttide, diving deep
the white sickle pearl of eve time's creep
part the willows, the brush and the keep
woolgathering as we sleep
a hundred score have passed this way
minds cold as the whisperer's call
and leaving before the bitter bell's toll
the blessed thief and the black kaliboer
with the fluid sighs of twilight screams
a falling circle through an hour-glass seam
the shadow wakens the weeping streams
woolgathering as we dream
woolgathering
swimming against the nighttide, diving deep
the white sickle pearl of eve time's creep
part the willows, the brush and the keep
woolgathering as we sleep
a hundred score have passed this way
minds cold as the whisperer's call
and leaving before the bitter bell's toll
the blessed thief and the black kaliboer
with the fluid sighs of twilight screams
a falling circle through an hour-glass seam
the shadow wakens the weeping streams
woolgathering as we dream
posted by Ian russell at 4:02 AM
2 Comments:
"the shadow wakens the weeping streams" is my favorite line here. I can imagine this all happening in slow motion for some reason. Great work and blog here Ian.
hi steve & thanks, good to see you drop by.
yes, it could be - it's a sort of dream sequence, surreal - a bit of nonsense really, sort of whiter shade of pale thing.
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