Map Of Time

Another poem in the "Map" sequence.  It doesn't seem to have any specific inspiration other than taking the cue from previous poems in the series and a vague hint of Salvador Dali with the rolled clock.





Map Of Time  -  26 Apr 13


Unrolled
Ticking clock
A bell strikes an hour but
I lose count

Forgetting
Where we are
A face shines out an our but
Whose our?

Dawn
Conducts the choir
Chorus sings a medley
In random keys

Waking
Remembered that
Of all the times we see and share
Are any real?

Sun
Fingers of light walking
Across the shape of the day ~ into
Time’s map

Another touch of surrealism ~ one day I shall have to work on creating something totally surreal with the assistance of Muse.

Competition

A new poem wandered into my mind, with gentle encouragement from Muse, it grew fairly quickly and I present it here.  The structure of a "count down" wasn't actually intended originally but I felt that it was good and I continued till it was complete.





Competition  -  12 Aug 12


Emptiness tried to claim me
Loneliness was already here
Between them
The melancholy choir
Was complete

Cobwebs on unused dreams
Did nothing but collect dust
And hide the light
From my eyes

Felt that all I saw
All I felt
Was all

Began to hear
New music

And then an Angel sang






Getting a feeling that this is the first poem of a pair ~ it this is the case, then part two will appear before too long, I hope.

Poet's Spell

This is another example of just hearing a couple of words somewhere and a whole poem growing from there. This one is a departure from my usual themes but I felt that a change would be good.





Poet's Spell - 01 Dec 10

The piper plays
A merry tune
But within it lies
A hidden melody
Carrying a secret
From ancient days

The choir sings
Tells of days
From whence the mystery
Comes
And grows
Within the sacred grove

The piper and the minstrel
Duet
Offer the words
To charm the trees
And wrest the
Ancient stones to dance

Mortal ears can hear
If they choose
But so often
Will ignore
The song before them
And the choir falls silent

Who will join the poet now
To weave the words
To bind the song
And allow the melody
To grow again
And charm the world





I wonder if this fits into any other sequence of poems I have written - I suspect that the answer is yes and it may be a way of rekindling the energies in them.