Their playing my tune, like flying me back home to my silvery moon,
Showing off with its white eerie glimmer,
I'm sitting on its very edge, highlighted by its vain shimmer,
Searching for fun waiting for the morning sun,
I have my wishing rod, casting a line,
To catch happiness, knocking out sadness, for a life so fine,
Spears are targeting my heart, driving out the demons and fears,
Moon of mine, releasing turmoil, dreams exposed,
With many moments of repose.
Slight of hand the angels are playing, in a heavy metal band,
Sand falling through times, of an ever-changing land,
Seascapes with crashing waves of extreme power
It's white surf eating the shore line,
Like a wild fire,
Magnetic pull of forces that need to be covered in a black drape,
Lure of the wide open landscape,
Dividing my soul,
Leggy high spirited foals, frolicking in lush green meadows,
Fleeing from no mercy foes,
.
Living in a dreamscape of velvet bogland, of burnt brown,
Spreading a sense of lonliness all around,
I hear music so beautiful with such an alluring sound,
I have many turbulent rivers to cross,
Carrying a great sense of loss,
Leaving the past behind, but it always surges back into my mind,
To fence me in is to make each day a serious offence
Freedom is a seascape, a landscape and a dreamscape,
It all adds up to my intriguing moonscape.
loved the poem very much, , , , , angels playing in a heavy metal band, , , , , what an imagination, , , , hats off, ,
Truly an emotional journey.........with so many thoughts tucked inside the soul-many passions do speak of loss........but the wish to go ahead remains strong..........long like this moonscape.Liked it.
Incredibly intriguing my friend! 10/10
Freedom is a seascape, a landscape and a dreamscape, It all adds up to my intriguing moonscape. The poem is a beauty..................10
wonderful imagery make this poem really really great still hard to imagine angels play heavy metal band but everyone have their wishing rod to catch happiness, knocking out sadness, for a better life enjoy to read it more and more thanks for sharing
so long and classical ventures yuk, .. baby child sleeps under his mom s venture seas are nt the slaves of tides great...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
The culmination is here: Freedom is a seascape, a landscape and a dreamscape, It all adds up to my intriguing moonscape. i liked the words carrying rich images! ! !