In Narnia a far door opens
Light is beyond in brightness
Crystal steins shine stunning
Liquid warmth fills to brim
There is a prince most enchanting
Like a magnet I am drawn to his voice
Murmurs of nothing, yet everything
Claw at my muse to whisper back
There is this book half written
It begs like a pup for its bone
Let a hole be dug deep and wide
The pages must bleed with ink
Travel to a far muse, stepping
On stars and beams, soul deep
Shot with a needles in my marrow
On the molecule of tomorrow
All is ink on paper, scribbles
Yet in becoming, reading her plot
Lives between the ears mind
In castles and treasured divine
© cat hodgson
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem