I hear of corridors dark and small
Others grand and filled with light
Some the players only dance
Others merely sing.
As I wander down these halls
Each one reaches out with wares
Come here, try this, smell that
Your fortune's here, fame is there.
Which one to pick
What journey do I seek
Adventure grand with dragon quest
Or quiet faerie talk in moonlight night.
A maypole dance, and sky-clad maids
Darkened misty, magick marshes
Come my love, come dance with me
But not again, that can never be.
That one corridor is sealed tight
Against all hope for travel
At least not in this life
The grandest lie of love--forever.
As you walk away
From down our mighty mount
I wonder why alone you go
And why that corridor is closed to me.
All others open, if I dare
Bonnie lass I knew so well
Sultry tropic queen
Fair-haired laughter filled with song.
Quiet little lady at my side
The beauty who never could say no
One who matched my every move
These and more all there for me.
Dance the maypole dance with sky-clad maids
Sit quiet with your faerie love
Dragon's gone a-questing this good night
Flies of fire light his way.
Your love is surely gone forever
The soft touch on satin skin
Love's whispers in your ears
The timeless tune, two hearts attuned.
The dance, now done, what will you do
This day or next or for forever
Dance the maypole dance with sky-clad maids
In full moon, moon lit night.
Watch her wend her way from down your mount
Off to an unknown land and times and climes
Offer prayer her journey's passage safe
And shed a tear or two for what was lost.
Dance the maypole dance with sky-clad maids
In full moon, moon lit night
Sit in quiet talk with partnered faerie maid
And wait for dragon's questing to be done.
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And there are some visions that never die; their life is always an ever-present reality in one's consciousness. The analysis brought this other poem to mind.
However, it can be argued that construction is only possible when the materials are known and at hand.
One might easily be led to believe that the rhyme and rhythm carry the weight of the poem, however, I did flow with the lines but to submerge more deeply. I had to deconstruct it at many points to try to at least get closer to what you have tried to achieve, and I am sure that I did get to it.
It seemed to me like a spectrum of nostalgia, reminiscences, and the dilemma that the persona is going through. If I am write the poem is inspired by a thought and a vision forlorn but brought to life again.
God bless you
Rajasir
As your words danced to life in my mind, I slowly watched a movie unfold. One in which I fell down a well and nearly drowned in a love so deep, my only salvation the crack in the well that bled my love to another. Now I lie alone at the bottom of my damp, dark well, unable to seep through the same crack that stole my heart. I wait, in hopes that one day, a new love will lower a rope, that I may climb to new heights, and dance on moon lit nights.
With rhymes of children's tales
and visions wrapped in innocence
Ribbons gently float 'round us now
Slowly choking in a sense
Each word a tug on my heart string
each phrase wraps the ribbons tighter
The maid's gone with questing dragon nigh
The slain knows that words are mightier
One final twisted twitch in truth
The grandest lie of love--forever
She may return one day post journey's way
Today, tomorrow, and yet you fear it's never
The strength it takes to sit defeated
To dance the maypole with emptiness in her stead
Admitting to the world an unfulfilled dream
Where faerie love would have sat instead
Poor partnered faerie maid and quiet
Doth she know what dreams of corridors past
Lay locked within a tortured heart's corridors
If only another, and not hers would last
Would flies of fire light your way one day
and lead you to the key you truly seek
That you may open the gates of Paradise
the home to all the honest, the pure, the meek
So dance again 'round yonder maypole
And patiently wait till your dreams come true
Rest quiet sans the faeries, dear
Until the truth's revealed to you
-------------------------------------
Ah, thus my response to my own interpretation,
accurate not though it may be.
Twas simply the truth of what I thought I saw, the way my vision told your story to me.
What this beautiful, moving poem said to me may not be said to any other reader. In fact, it may not have been meant by the author. None of that matters for it was special to me. The images you created were there. Thank you for the trip.
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