Press Play.
Foundation of the piece.
A lonely soul dreams of the past while looking in the mirrors of introspection.
Do you sometimes reflect on what has come and been lost, in those priceless quiet moments?
I wrote this today and slightly altered it. If you have already read it.
Salute.
Title:
Babylon Dreams
The lone poet alone
And old
Like a white feather
Blowing in all weathers
From the deep Spring of emotions
To the Summer-land of devotion
Briefly landing with Autumn leaves before shattering into a millions verbs
In the Winters deep
freeze
Always remembers
Each and every December
Before the snow
The Greatest of all Picture Shows
When she was young
Wild with her own truth and reason
Racing through all seasons
Urged on by
Poetic music
Aplenty
Shared with first love when she was twenty
But now always cold
She prays she remembers
How she once smiled
She looks in the mirror
Seeing how age has taken her smile away
How life has banished her Garden of Eden filled with such things
She remembers
Every day
Puck lost in
Midsummer Night Dreams
King Solomon
Huckleberry Fin
Oberon
Bluebeard
And so many
Memorable things
She prays to the High Lords of The Faery
To rescind old age
Which has made her wary
To step into a new Babylon
Of stories and poetry
Of muses
Confusion
Mystics and heretics
To climb hedges and ditches
Dance with angels and witches
Count gold with dwarves and elves
As they show themselves
But like every other night
With the hanging moon in sight
She knows that old magic is nearly gone
But still she dreams
Dreams with an indomitable heart
To wander lost
Like a lone ghost
In her new vision of Babylon
(C) Copyright John Duffy
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