Although I started off to write this poem with every intention to being a happy one it took a turn of its own and simply came out to speak of life and death. But it is only the beginning of an idea and I’m sure some day more will come of it on a happier note.
While I was quite inspired by the beauty of the frosted spider’s web Bev took I was also touched by what we have and lose in life. I never thought of writing a poem from the perspective of a ghosts or spirit. So here it is.
Picture by Bev Wigney (C) of Burning Silo Definitely have a visit to Bev's website for it promises to showcase all of the beauteous wonders of our natural world she captures on film. Just click the picture of the Spider's Web and it will take you there. Enjoy.
*** Music of the Night ***
Listen, to the music of the night!
What joy it brings,
From somewhere, in the distant sight,
An echo of fond embrace, it carries on starry strings,
A beautiful song it sings.
And to the music, dance the twiggy limbs of trees,
While a spider looms black enchantment of his polished entangle,
Within the tree’s benighted leafy eaves,
Preparing for its unwary guest, secretly to strangle
Without an uttered sigh, he waits and dangles.
And all the while beneath his watch, beneath moon-beams,
A lonely heart broods mutely in treasured thought,
Basked in the afterglow of summer dreams,
Encircled by the light of impassioned fireflies, once caught,
It lingers in the twilight, conceiving of all that is now lost, that once had fiercely sought
And to the spider’s delicious delight,
At long last, his guest has arrived,
Within the finery of his home’s sweet lite,
This ballroom he so ingeniously contrived,
Will undeniably see his innocent one , will have not, the night survived.
Lonely is the heart that wonders,
Of the hour that was day
Of the hour that is night, of the hours torn asunder
Of a life that has gone by and now is gray
Of a life that now has all decayed.
*** ending thought ***
Oh but, sweet hour of the dawning,
Now gone is the hour of the night,
Now heart, look upon thy mourning, yawning
To the birdsong on the wind of light
Rising high above the trees, on a web of crystal white
Rough draft...
Will post Sunday the art inspired by Bev's Frosted Spider's Web
Saturday, February 21, 2009
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*** Sir Arthur Conan Doyle ***
*** Sir Christopher Lee ***
~ Turn of the Screw ~
WE WERE SOLDIERS
Twilight at Sea
The Twilight Hours like birds flew by,
As lightly and as free;
Ten thousand stars were in the sky,
Ten Thousand on the sea;
For every wave with dimpled face,
That leaped upon the air,
Had caught a star in its embrace,
And held it trembling there.
Amelia Coppuck Welby
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All graphics, text and design:
copyright Anna Belanger - Annabelle
Note: If you personally hold copyright to any images or other content herein and wish it to be removed or credited, please email me and I'm more than happy to do so.
copyright Anna Belanger - Annabelle
Note: If you personally hold copyright to any images or other content herein and wish it to be removed or credited, please email me and I'm more than happy to do so.
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