Clew

By lenchenelf

Sun, 15 Aug 2010

2367 reads

6 comments

Your whisper, an ivory taper.

It glows in this somnolence,
speaks a needle eye of flame,
shares a quip to candle,
thread lights passages of mind.

Revealed, an unsolved labyrinth,
discarded ball of twine,
rusted sword and hope;
small things I left behind.

Comments

Beautiful imagery. But I

Permalink Submitted by jennifer on Sun, 2010-08-15 00:19

Beautiful imagery. But I can't help but say this feels somehow unfinished... J x

:-D you know me too well, I

Permalink Submitted by lenchenelf on Sun, 2010-08-15 09:37

:-D you know me too well, I had a spare semi-colon, so have applied it this am. atb lena xx

Haha! You're just as much of

Permalink Submitted by jennifer on Sun, 2010-08-15 11:06

Haha! You're just as much of a perfectionist as I am! J x

I liked the second stanza

Permalink Submitted by rjnewlyn on Mon, 2010-08-16 23:19

I liked the second stanza particularly. The idea of mind as building is very Jung. I hope there aren't any minotaurs ... Rob

Thanks Jen :-) most of the

Permalink Submitted by lenchenelf on Tue, 2010-08-17 09:33

Thanks Jen :-) most of the time I feel like a chef who forgot a vital ingredient just after he's plated up and sent to table, diners don't always appreciate the flourish of their meal being tinkered with while they're trying to eat it, or being told how to hold their cutlery for the tricky bits that haven't been boned properly, hey ho :-) Thanks Rob, much appreciated, I have a water pistol for tricky beasts ;-) atb lena xx

Ha! Yes, imagine if the chef

Permalink Submitted by jennifer on Tue, 2010-08-17 10:23

Ha! Yes, imagine if the chef ran out and just fiddled with the garnish, brilliant! It's so hard to know when to let go and put work out there sometimes...I often make the mistake of 'over-fiddling', and messing up a perfectly good poem in the process, lol, J x