Kingsbrae 10.2
10 June 2017
Mist
Tisty-tosty ,
this morning mist,
white wisps
blindfolding bushes,
draping our world
with silent birds.
Eyes out of focus,
we squint
at shape and form,
mystery in the magic
of movement,
the air a-shimmer,
spider webs glistening.
Long lost sailors
return from distant seas,
dead warriors wake,
our ancestors walk
backwards in time
to greet us
in this mythical
dreamland that swathes
our senses,
wrapping us
in the mystery of mist.
Pan pipes:
a melancholy melody ,
memories
moving among the reeds.
There is not one image in this poem that does not contribute to the enveloping mist. Very nice, especially the pan flute at the end. Reminds me of Wind in the Willows. Jane
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Wind in the Willows … one of my favorite books … the piper at the gates of dawn … thanks for your continued encouragement.
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Beautiful poem, Roger. I love the picture,also. There is something so dreamlike in both that I just might have to take an early afternoon nap. I’m actually surprised the nap has held off this long. It’s just too tempting to lean back and just zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.
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I know that feeling. It’s here.. I have just walked round Kingsbrae Gardens and I want to write from the notes I took … but I have just had lunch and bed is beckoning!
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Roger, I am a total sucker for mist and miss is dearly here in non-misty TX – thank you for the reminder and the envy! 😉
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What a nice set of comments. It was rainy and misty yesterday … a beautiful day for the poem. So glad you liked it.
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I always appreciate your work talented man ♡♡
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