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  • Wondering


    I am her sleeping prisoner
    Within dark mines of fantasy,
    Cocooned within this tapestry of slowly woven yearnings.
    And there shall be no turning from this love,
    Her fearful wonderment the snare around my heart.
    She is the sunlit morn from which I hide,
    Her warming touch my culmination,
    For that would scatter all my dreams,
    And all desires kept secret in their silken bonds dispelled
    As cruel dawning snaps such gentle expectations,
    And by its light all hope is falsified.
    Till only then one answer hangs upon that dreadful doubt:
    Shall I be moth or butterfly?

  • #2
    hi the Great Depression. i think this was well executed and familiar. the language you used set the tone from the beginning with 'dark mines of fantasy' although i myself would trim one or the other of "within". doesn't it seem a bit redundant?
    ​​--and again, the tonal language set the scene, peppered with metaphors and philosophical wisdom, and the end a complete experience, one at which i certainly wonder!
    thanx for sharing with us. peace and kudos! 👌
    Last edited by amenOra; 12-27-2018, 01:52 AM.

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    • The Great Depression
      The Great Depression commented
      Editing a comment
      Your comments much appreciated. Yes, I agree there are too many withins within. (I find it very hard resisting posting a newly written poem - hence all the bugs.) Not great but I may come back to tinker with it. Thanks for your frankness - sincerely, that is a big help!

  • #3
    resemblance of the sphere if I do say so myself. to be or not to be that is the question.

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