Tuesday, June 19, 2012

07-2012

CROCUS



She glides across rooms in my mind

leaving a perfumed trace

a malleable presence of her

unique being speaks to me



Unconsciously I utter her message 

preparing the ground

scattering ripe forms

of organic shape



Words born from clays birthed in earth

fired in volcanic heat

cooled softened tempered

sit gently on the page

or

in air float lovingly.


© MRL 19-06-12



10 comments:

  1. The Unknowngnome said:

    A delicate trace of mind. Floating.

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  2. Apologies for accidentally deleting the first comment, which is now re-instated

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  3. Wonderful. For me you perfectly capture the moment of trying to turn an essence of an idea into words on paper.

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    Replies
    1. In accepting what you say Jane: I need to explain that telepathy in this particular model provided the "essence"

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  4. Love is indeed telepathic. It floats in a delicate trace of mind resting in the other. The closest one can get to it is in the Crocus.

    Heron, this piece has captured me. Well done.

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  5. I really like this. It feels ethereal, magical and yet captures the unknown essence of the process of writing and perhaps too, of loving. Wonderful.

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  6. Kim said:
    Love it, Mel! Like your rambling mind!

    Kim

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  7. Lovely imagery Mel...the scent of magic.

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  8. Wow - I think this is one of your best poems so beautiful :)

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