A Fanciful Ode
It is all imagination, of course. (But isn’t everything?)
One bright morning
As the sun lit his room,
He realised that passion
Had a deeper meaning
Than he’d ever given credit for.
All those ladies
Who’d blessed his lust with gold;
Who’d given love in kind;
Had filled his diary,
Were fleeting notions to fill a verse.
But there was one –
I think Shirley her name –
Who came now out of nowhere
To take his hand again
Leading him to real paradise.
When that moment –
Magical as his life –
Flashed like rainbow lightening
On blank pristine pages,
He was gone away with the faeries.
Her stocking seams are straight,
He knowing what it meant
To give the World such verse –
Just nectar. No kisses, and no sex…
Just reclusive poetic magic!
Nice one Allen, a subtle rhythm in my ears. And oh, straitening her seams in her stockings; whatever happened to good erotica? Now its just lust!
‘Dodge’, I entered this response to you yesterday, but it went down the cyber-plughole somehow! I wanted to tell you that it was Rick’s poem ‘And in the Bright Morning’ that inspired this (it randomly popped up on the front page the other day.) Read that and you will get the lines about Shirley’s stockings. 🙂
Just read it and commented; and no wonder he is missed.
Damn! Read it again, the muse dear boy, the muse; you jammy sod, you’ve pulled it off!
This should be nibberpickered – I call forth the conclave to adjudicate!
Glad you enjoyed, my friend.
The gift of imagination is a wonderful thing; coupled with a muse like yours then the gift of creation becomes magical, like this poem.
I’m guessing, Bhi, that you had me sussed. 🙂
Nevertheless it is good that you liked it. Thank you for the comment: Gratefully received.
I really like all the images that jump out of this poem, it has such vibrance in it. 🙂 sue.
Thank you, Sue. I’m grateful for your reading and commenting.
Allen, There’s much to learn from the images that come out here. Strangely, the poem has an oriental touch to it. I went and read Rick’s poem. Thank you so much Allen for letting us read the poem. He will never die, not in this space.
Hello, Supratik. Thanks for reading and commenting. Yes, he had a style, didn’t he? It is wonderful that we have a treasure trove of his stuff on the site.