Happenchance
A ginger morning
aglow in parabolic radiance
a dash of happenchance behind a smile
why ponder images behind glass
when the sylph is in the garden
Sometimes love is a slender truth
played in a minor key
danced in shadows whispered in mist
but when the spice is loosed
and the soul is given to the poets
then the heart is truly free
posted by Martin Lanaux @ 8:05 PM
3 comments
3 Comments:
Paracelsus, believed the sylph was imaginary....can your sylph whisk your soul with kambaba jasper leaves? and fly free with you? for it is in passion's flight that the poet rises to the pinnacle of life....and routine however important or comforting falls away....
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yep, yep, yep!
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