Sunday, August 10, 2008

Memory of Place (Inspired by Memory of Place-art installation at St Mary’s by Keiko Mukaide)

Floating little, lazy lights 
are drawn towards their trickling end.
Burning orange, amber, yellow.
Safe, encased,
in buoyant bowls.

Light through glass, it
flickers, dances,
circles slowly, ripples,

Moving always, nearer
to the edges,
to the final fall.

Huddled in amongst the rocks,
they wait, protected,
precious things.
Until they are returned again,
to start their dance once more.

Their watery song will keep the rhythm,
guiding them, enticing them.
Their glowing, pulsing love parade,
a pilgrimage, as one,

Their light will always shimmer,
on the water, on the stones.
Their light will always dance with joy.
A journey to the known.


steven.nash82 said...

I love the way this one works with the photo - my favourite part is:
Moving always, nearer
to the edges,
to the final fall

Doesnt that just beg to be analised in a Literature seminar? lol.
And also congrats the phrase "Pulsing love parade" is probably the greatest line Bon Jovi never wrote. lol

punkrawkgrandad said...

I dont know enough about poetry to analyse but in summary:


hodgehedge said...

Agreed with the boys here, I wish I give a girly opinion but those effeminates have gone and done it already havent they? So to quote a grandad: