I have found you, broken-winged bird, in a land where the ink never dries, where eyes never open, or perhaps simply where the sky is always black.
Where nighttime is an adventure and daylight is a bore, where we are all simply smoke dancing in mirrors, or fragments of sunlight visible only for a fleeting moment.
Where souls are like twisting wrought-iron statues, beautiful, but too melancholy for most, standing motionless and silent, but oddly proud and perhaps a bit eager in the light of the waning sun.
Where we speak with lingering looks and smoldering eyes like the embers at the bottom of an ancient fire.
If you can read the language of the hopelessly lost, then I am delighted to invite you in for a midnight cup of tea.
But, if you feel that you have no business amongst the wonderstruck, then I do wish you the best as you make your way home alone in the blackest, coldest, deepest of nights.
I have to wonder when you are writing how your mind can jump from thought to thought and then bring in something different but make it fit. All of this seems to fit darkness and night. I enjoy reading your writes. Kathie
Beautifully emoted, full of imagery and starry night, it glows and invitingly calls to come hither. The rhyme and rhythm began with a musical pace, but it faded thru to the end, and left me chewing thoughts wanting more.
(I have found you, broken-winged bird,
in a land where the ink never dries,
where eyes never open,
or perhaps simply where the sky is always black.) This is a pretty Stanza.
Great imagination and superb narration.
I like the thoughts and the description in the poem.
"If you can read the language of the hopelessly lost,
then I am delighted to invite you in
for a midnight cup of tea."
Nice to invite people for tea and the mystery of words and thoughts. Thank you for sharing the excellent poetry.
Coyote
I became insane, with long intervals of horrible sanity.
I love to write and I love to review. Send me requests and I'll leave you my thoughts. I would hope that you'd do the same for me.
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