This poem may not be what it seems, it could be a dream
coloured aquamarine or a figment of your imagination, angels
flying high on wings of elation. A delicate feather blown on
the air here and there, past the wistful face whose eyes are
always gazing beyond the earth to some faraway place. So
proceed with a gentle touch, this is sensitive skin. Absorb it until
there’s no knowing where one of you ends and the other begins.
This is a stained glass poem, easily broken which talks to your
soul through music and art in words unspoken. It’s siren song of
longing faintly heard is a haunting sound, which hypnotising with
awe and wonder pulls you under invites you to drown. Explore those
worlds that you cannot see and access illusion through page and stage
on canvas and film, every night on the screen of your television.
Magic’s a drug to make you shiver, it tantalises but can it deliver?
These words are seductive but can be destructive, a beaded curtain
which glitters and shines. What’s behind it? If you see that it’s real or
less than ideal, would you still want to find it? Perhaps you’re the reader
my heart is set on and this is a pedestal. Why not get on and yearn from
afar. Let me wish on your star, just give me a sign, be my soul mate
connecting me to the divine. We’ll get carried away till hope dissolves
in the cold light of day or we get inspired by that love which goes higher.
I’m your Tinkerbell, a will-o-the-wisp, the chameleon changing colors
in scenes which constantly shift, affecting your sense of direction, common
sense and all worldly connections. Don’t try to hold this poem, it changes
shape, I’m a slippery fish, if you try to define me I’ll leave you behind me,
slip through your net and make good my escape. These lines do not recognise
distance or time, their boundaries extend to infinity. A subtle suggestion,
that unanswered question. This poem’s ........whatever you want it to be.