Started on Dodger the new novel by Sir Terry
Prachett, the magic of storytelling moving my
mind into a fantastic realm and I'm off - my
spirit riding the story in seething emotions
and feelings
Images conjured in lines of artifice varying in
degree, pedantic words put in the mouth of a
protagonist, no matter - it remains delightful,
the awareness that this story was woven by
a past master
Of social commentary, the author's spirit illu-
minating lines that would have fallen if uttered
by anybody else, my heart pliable in Pratchett's
hands, the novel coloured and shaped by the
octarine light
Shining bright after years of bringing the Disc-
world alive; following unnatural speeches my
eyes ride every line creating a musical tune
by rendering the emotional tones in the
musical score
Of the text - all other noise is intrusion, not
registered while taking in the book I hold In
my hands - dreaming within the London
of a Charles Dickens, presented within
the eldritch perspective
Of a masterful Pratchett…
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem