Jungle High Retreat Poem by Graham Leese
Jungle High Retreat
I could sleep for trails
of silk in the wind
to carry us
through crystal sands with
nothing but stashed dreams and tinted
sunglasses, a strange blood orange stain.
The ghosts of long dead Victorians
can glow in gaslight
their children sepia like bones buried
long ago. In the hushed twilight lone sparrows
can guide me to heaven because the streams
lie stranded in the wake of angels.
Amazing: wistful, delicate, transporting ~ like one neat stroke of the pen-brush. I want to read it again & again... and again. :) cheers, sjg
graham to think that you are only 20, you are indeed very good in what you are doing. greatpoetry.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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5/1/2024 9:11:31 PM # 1.0.0.1119
Exciting. A trolley of fantastic images.. "a trail/of silk in the wind"… what it does to us! Loved it..