Saturday, 6 June 2015

Snippets of poetry from old notebooks

Saturday afternoon skating moonbeams gently glittering out from old notebooks!
They feel like a gateway into an old world of inspiration <3 p="">Maybe to use in songs, or future paintings?

Some of my favourites:

And the cosmos drew in his breath
'til he was blue in the face

We stand poised on the sill of this astral land
Silver nails of rain in our hands
We gape, wide-eyed, at saffron-soaked limbs
While from her coccoon, Calisto sings.

Will I be found in uncertain lack?
A pipeclay thorn pockmarking my back?

Also - the earth is the third planet from the sun - fascinating also that three is an essential number within the realms of folklore, fairytales, and aesthetically pleasing sequences / proportions.

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