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SongSing for me of soft silky rain and harsh morninglight
Sing for me of wrongs redressed and Adam’s first waking sight
Sing for me of clouds as cold
As proud the old
Sing loud the untold tale of forgotten waif
And secret sorrows given by adulterers' ill-kept faith
Of rainbow-beams and window-seat dreams weave my spell
Draw it dripping from clear minnow-streams and thrice-robbed gleaming oyster shell
Trace the flighting fairy's way
Let counselor and jester have each his say
And call the wind down from its play
In the tree-tops, in the tree-tops.
Sing for me of children's delight in lollipops
Sing of lovers' meadows, benches, lakes, and walks; of rosy arbors
And any other place hallowed by bliss and ardor
Sing of golden butterfly wings and brassy bell-tower rings
Of pale, penny-bright moon -
Of deepest dungeon unchanged by noon -
Set all to your soul's lonely tune - of these I charge you sing!
Sing me a song of beauty fair and poor
Of widows' cottages upon the moor
And heroes' paths n
In the Hollow Space Under the StairIn the hollow space under the stair
spiders breed all unaware
of an untrimmed door set in the wall
behind the paint, narrow and small.
This door opens on meadows bright –
even while the household sleeps at night –
or, perhaps, on rainy days
where water licks at stony quays,
and houses lean across canals,
and ships return from hunting whales;
or else, broaching lands of trolls,
cracks wide the face of hoary knoll.
In the pantry, by the box of bread
someone has a flashlight hid;
close by it, on upper shelves
is tucked away – a book of tales.
I say not who, I say not when
might journey to an hour's end
from the hollow space under the stair –
and all the household unaware!
for VeneziaMy mind has become crowded with Venice:
Its streets spoke out through my skull,
(I'm sure you can see)
In passageways shadowed between windowed stonework
Whose terminus is often in water, where echoes die.
I've no gondola to send them on
Past the quiet, past the lattices, past the forgetfulness
Which requires that I retrace
Curves to the square.
Beside me always the hassle, always the hustle,
Wheeling, ranting, raving, colors of cloths
Clever silk-spun and lacemaker's snares,
Piano's plunk across the piazza,
Glint, glance, gilt and gleam of glass,
Multitudes melded to a melancholy Murano, corner to wall:
Trefoil sputtering lamp-lit stare of the lion on the quay.
Gelato is a kind of baptism
For those who would not normally confess;
Walking jeans and gauzy shoulders ply the busy wilderness
In supposed effortless resistance and all the signs suggest
At least you'll show something for what you have seen,
Art and its many lucid motives, or madness,
Court and cathedral t
SweepAs soon as he stepped into the open field, he slung the minesweeper from his shoulder and pointed its nose to the ground. It was old, worn and heavy, and old and rough, calloused and breaking, and old. The metal between his hands was cold and chilled his fingers. If he was not careful he could step on the very mines he was trying to find. They would have to pick up the pieces of his body and to send the tags home where his wife would cry and hold his son and daughter close with nothing to show them of their father but a piece of metal engraved with "Ajeet Singh".
One sweep, than another.
This war had taught him to never trust open spaces. Open spaces were where the mines were planted, where Prets lay in wait. France was green and damp just like the uniform he wore. It had been days since he was separated from his unit, and now the Allies were breathing on his neck, searching for POW’s, searching for the enemy of which he was one. &
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Bluefley has a gallery filled with artwork that whisks you off in to a Sci-fi daydream, and keeps you captivated for hours. Marc has been a member of our community for over a decade and has achieved nothing but success with his astounding commitment to interacting with the community, sharing a prolific amount of video tutorials and generally being an all round rockstar deviant. It is no joke that we are absolutely delighted to award the Deviousness Award for April 2014 to ... Read More