Isle Of Venus But When Magical Poem by Emmanuel George Cefai

Isle of Venus but when magical
When magic mists haunt everywhere
And with them carry the scents of magic.


Volcano that rare erupts in centuries
Not in years
Whose lavas drying become
Flowers of red more than of blood.

And in this isle of beauty let us rest
And in this isle of beauty let us forget
Not only in our sleep, the Conscious
And float on the Ocean of Sub-Consciousness.

And
In that Ocean of Sub-Consciousness
You shall receive Knowledge not less
Nor view after view of mounting beauty neglect.

For these, these be oxygen the new Oxygen.