Curtains of mystical light
Pattern my room, quite soundless
Piercing white recedes the gloom
And silvers my head bounteously.
Moonbeams are lacing the walls.
Flooding sheen over pale hung
Threads, which shimmer down my face
Webbing me brightly They string along
My bed, change shape, and ready
Themselves for dance. As they wait
To advance towards the door
Lace, lunar-made, now oscillates.
Arms high I slowly enter
Lustrous circled dream, become
Entranced with gleaming movement,
And moonlight lace and I seem one.
Fay, I knew I would enjoy this before I read. Your work is always reliable; where language is used to calm the nerves.10/10 Ian
I am in utter total awe of the moon and you. 'lace, , lunar-made now oscillates'. 'and moonlight, lace and I become one'. How you bring glorious light into the room and your dreams, and how you always know to end one line and start another in a sequence that only you know how. 10 Karin Anderson
Your masterful creativity shines in this piece, dear Fay. Great flowing lines and excellent choices of words. I love it! : -)
Few people have the gift. You have that gift in abundance. The ability to put into words every think you see and imagine with poetic eloquence. Steve (The Love Poet)
It is an extra-ordinary poem composed at a higher level of imagination. It has such pictorial value that we can reach the event with our feelings. You always meet our thurst with your lovely composition.10
Curtains of mystical light Pattern my room, quite soundles. ........................................................... Fay, Amazing picture... From the beginning up to the end... 10........ Best wishes, Tsira
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
This clutches me like a web, Not my hands, but my brain.If it was self written, it is marvellous, but if copied from a soerce, very good