
Imaginings that take the mind,
And form the base of unborn verse.
A scattering of notions,
Of concepts light and dark,
Through happenings that dapple the world,
By the alchemy of the scribe.
–
To glide freely through flashing thunder,
Into a melodic sunset serenade.
This conjures so many metamorphoses,
Shapeless things that soar upon the wind,
Things brought out of nature,
Things passed, passing and yet to come.
–
The ritual worship of ancient rites,
The ugly splendour of desire that drives the wicked,
Frenzied unknown creatures that stalk the night,
Ruins that lay hidden for centuries waiting to be found,
Spiralling staircases disappearing into cloud,
Dice falling on a gamblers board.
–
Fabulous palaces, yet discovered,
Mirrors showing things not seen,
Echoes coming layer on layer,
Hidden temples in slow decay.
Dwelling on the unlikely.
Expecting the impossible.
Abstract things invented.
–
Both images and memories flooding in,
Creating sanctuary in verdant pasture.
Dead things being brought to life,
Lost souls and wandering spirits,
Noisy scenes and subtle thoughts,
Memories come and rhymes unfold.
–
Breathtaking monuments and holy fire,
Raucous pageantry and silent prayer,
Leaping fountains and churning streams,
Usurped thrones and raging battles,
Fiery realms and clear blue skies,
Stolen crowns and gilded masks,
Magic stones and mystic charms.
–
Spellbound forests and glowing crystals,
Powerful amulets and precious seeds,
Fantastical beings and alien forms,
Deepening shades and distant cries,
Paradise sought and dilemmas found.
–
All following a labyrinth within the brain,
A frustration like ink spilling from the pot.
All waiting to be born!








