Wailing For Her Demon Lover

It was a miracle of rare device,
A sunny pleasure dome with caves of ice!
          Samuel Taylor Coleridge
 
 
Woman wailing for her demon lover,
Not less than this the enterprise
Every poet tries to ring from a holy instrument,
Her body lowered from her stricken mind;
The hailstorm of media’s ceaseless electronic bling
Flashes in the rising notes,       
Selfie’s drama of streaming fate,
And on her dulcimer she plays
Such a music loud and long,
Intricate in every sensuous measure
Like a bright green snake coiled round a fallen dove,
Delicate and unrelenting means,
To worship her form, her cunning ownership
Of what men dream they will surely be.
A lovely visage waved its tongue,
And the lady’s eyes they shrunk in her head.
 
 

© ross 2017
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7 Comments on "Wailing For Her Demon Lover"

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Gerry
Member

(Through caverns measureless to man – down to a sunless sea.)
Yes I get the message here, nicely done…

Gothicman
Member
Beautifully-phrased poetry, Ross, while also being cross-reference informative as it attempts to give insight into the style of thinking of previous great writers. Much enjoyed. To get a better aesthetic feel to the reading of this fine work, I think you should adjust the layout a tad. Go in EDIT place the mouse cursor before the first “W” and click on the “Return” key, once or twice, and then highlight the whole of the main poem (not the intro) and then click on “1” in the lower toolbar at the top, which will reduce line-spacing, and while you have it… Read more »
Stormwolf
Member

Fabulously dark, Ross.
Alison x

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