In a desert of words,
Hearing your voice
In the wind’s whisper.
The frisson of stars,
The terror of dark,
I endure to awaken
You in my heart.
You’re the Moon veiled,
A star in the rift,
Your hand
Writes notes
In invisible ink.
You’re a fiction
I made—
Conjured from air,
But still I keep seeking
You everywhere.
This post was curated by @theluvbug
and has received a resteem to hopefully generate some ❤ extra love ❤ for your post!
In Proud Collaboration with The Power House Creatives
and their founder @jaynie
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Thank you!
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I wish I had written this, so as to give it to my Samantha and Cherine. (from my novel). I'm keeping a copy....thanks
EDIT
I just realise, in the image, it looks like she is weeping ink...the perfect image for this poem
:)
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You picked up on the fact it's written to a character I created - often times readers miss either the literal meaning or the subtext - as for allusions, that's a whole other matter, lol. Thanks, Arthur
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My dear friend,
Surprised to see a comment here after 8 months?
I read the poem again, thought I would love to give it to Cherine, and then scrolled down to read the comments and saw your answer to my previous comment.
May I reprint this (as dedicated from me to Cherine and Samantha, or to all the girls of the Teller family, since I love them all, mentioning that this poem was dedicated by the poet to a character of his story?
I think that would create a unique precedent (I cannot recall it being done before).
Still hard at work on creating my web site (and learning how to while I do it!). It is starting to look quite good - even if I say so myself :)
Otherwise, just staying at home, as I have done for years, so I hardly notice the lockdown....it is just annoying when having to wait in a queue to get into the supermarket (never been British enough to enjoy queues!). I think I also anger some women (men do not bother) because I walk around without a mask. In that way I am a Greek, for I do not believe Fate has marked me for dying, I think it wants me to finish with my book and maybe get my project going so that I can leave knowing I created something I love and helped a few people.
lol - I wrote the above and had the thought...I wish I were a racist, for then it would be really ironic that if I manage to help anyone, it is mostly going to be those of brown or black skin.
All my best to you and your wife,
Alex (Arthur)
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So glad to hear you're doing well, Alex, and like all Greek demi-gods, tempting the Fates. Of course you can use the poem as a dedication - I would be flattered - use it however you want, my friend. I also concur about our writerly lifestyles - lockdowns and quarantines are part of our daily routines - but unlike you, I'm paranoid - this whole invisible plague has spooked me - reminds me of when I was in the occult and battling demons. There's no place to hide from the spirit realm - no place to hide from a black death. Sorry for being morose - my mind just goes there nights :)
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