Festivalia

By Parson Thru

Mon, 30 Jul 2012

1163 reads

3 comments

And from his mind
flew the sound
of anguish breaking

As the river swelled
over pastures aching

In the air
hung the sound
of magic working

In the trees
burned the eyes
of spirits lurking

But nothing moved
in the night
that wasn't seen

For no one lived
in this life
that was a dream

Certificate U

Parson Thru II

Miscellaneous

Comments

I like this PT, it is simple

Permalink Submitted by ItsSteveDave on Tue, 2012-07-31 13:49

I like this PT, it is simple and effective, but allows plenty of room for interpretation. First I thought you might have been at WOMAD on the weekend, what with the title and all, and still after the first three stanzas. Then something else took over - maybe night fell? At a festival, I find everything changes at night... That's my interpretation anyway!

Hi Steve. I love your

Permalink Submitted by Parson Thru on Tue, 2012-07-31 18:48

Hi Steve. I love your interpretation. I was at WOMAD. The atmosphere sure does change at night. But not so much for the worse there. More magical for sure. I tried to keep it as open as possible with just a feeling and a suggestion of magic. Glad you liked it. That makes it worthwhile.

Parson Thru

Thanks magic. Sometimes the

Permalink Submitted by Parson Thru on Wed, 2012-08-29 21:30

Thanks magic. Sometimes the words just tumble out if you know what I mean. I suppose a psychoanalyst might have a few thoughts but they know more about us than exists.