The ghostly gallery of out of prints.

T'was an incinerator's dream

to be fed fresh paper

while on the chopping block

gathered thoughts in their last farewell;

the executioner himself - the paper guillotine

enjoyed the threads of one's hard labours.

As the fireplace addressed many a letter

to its final resting place,

one sees fit when one turns

to the ghostly gallery of ashes,

as the mind takes in

the winter shadows that creep,

the shape of an inn

trailing wispy smoke dreams,

the church of grandeur

marked by grey monoliths

dressed in weathered decay.

While the ghosts of lads

that died in the war keep tryst

with the lasses who lie in the churchyard,

legends are forged in blacksmith's tales of bended steel,

his temporal lie ins

were no more, the hibernation of images

in slumber depths waiting,

the cobra in the hessian basket

ready to strike the flute in hand,

the clicking of the biro,

and thoughts that died on paper.

Reviews

[Einstein Noodle]

a must read several times for me ..so much in image and mood ..jam packed ...your first verse makes me the poet/writer going through the things thought grand in jotting down only to be discarded as "rubbish" (i do that all the time) ;)
i am a forlorn lover in the second verse; staring into shes and burning love letters ... the ashes consume and heal at the same time but the addiction to stare holds me
your last verse is so full of mythos to me ..i just leave it at that ..without cipher .. :)
E.

[Tony Jordan]

Reads to me like a trilogy with a theme A.M. wood lives as trees then dies as pulp then lives again as paper and the luckiest paper gets to be written upon.
So analagous of life.
I wish I'd written these lines -
"As the fireplace addressed many a letter
to its final resting place,
one sees fit when one turns
to the ghostly gallery of ashes,
as the mind takes in
the winter shadows that creep..." - dayuuum!

[Coyote Poetry]

A powerful and worthwhile poem my friend. I been to soldier's graveyards and Churches with names of soldiers lost to war. A place of sadness. Too many men and women had fought and die. Thank you Andrew for sharing the outstanding poetry.
Coyote

[Sami Khalil]

"legends are forged in blacksmith's tales of bended steel,
his temporal lie ins
were no more, the hibernation of images
in slumber depths waiting,"

A masterful piece of art and meaning. One of your best King Andrew. I love it...:)..............

[andrew mitchell]

haha Thank you Sami for your kind words.

[Sami Khalil]

You are welcome. ...:::;))))

[apennylate]

*trailing wispy smoke dreams,
the church of grandeur
marked by grey monoliths
dressed in weathered decay.*

Stunning line, and an even more stunning subject... Word-choice and emotional depth are on par with a great... Some of the metaphors... Whew... 101/100... Masterfully penned...

[andrew mitchell]

Thank you so much Silente for your kind review my friend.:)

[.]

Extremely well done, Andrew!

Very, very atmospheric with a ghostly tone as the name implies.

You have some great words and images throughout this piece that give it an almost melancholic gothic feel. Enjoyed it immensely. Very well done!

[andrew mitchell]

Wow Thank you Doodley for a top review, too kind sir!

[Ken Simm.]

I had in my mind an almost Torquemada like burning of stories when I first read this. But I find it now far more subtle than that. Each line is almost a story in waiting. Remarkable atmospheric writing.

[andrew mitchell]

Thank you for your kind words Ken

[Hebe]

Andrew this is stunning .... you evoked the feeling of loss in such a remarkable way..T'was an incinerator's dream, amazing prospective, great write!

[andrew mitchell]

Thank you Hebe for your kind review, I was beginning to wonder if I'll get a review so thank you very much again.

[Hebe]

Your welcome, I enjoyed every word :)....Just send read requests to your friends, that way everyone gets a chance to appreciate it.