by Claire G Shaw
Tuesday, November 05, 2002
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My eyes are wide and open,
The night is cold and dark,
I watch entranced as the Catherine wheel spins,
Sparking Blue and Green and Gold.
I stare into that impossible brightness,
The wheel of insubstantial fury and light,
A ghostly trailing glow burned across my eyes.
I shut my eyes, it doesn't go,
I blink and its still there,
But that doesn't really matter,
I don't really care.
I am locked into a dream of my own making,
I'm not really there.
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|Reviewed by Aled Fisher (Reader)
|Dear Claire - thankyou for writing this and sharing it. It's wonderful, put simply. I didn't realise you had a site here until just now - I'll be sure to stick around and read some more of your work... and, of course, I look forward to your book:)|
|Reviewed by Roger Ochs
|You may not be there but your poetry definately is.|
|Reviewed by cat
|well done, this is so good, I'm very proud of you|
|Reviewed by jude forese
|an elusive state of mind... nice write...|
|Reviewed by Bourge
|Amazing...love those last couple of lines...it's just sooo... I can't even think of a word for the way your poems get to me...
just keep writing them Claire!
|Reviewed by na na (Reader)
|And the dream propells you onward and onward. Great ... this is what good dreams do. Bill|
|Reviewed by Will
|Quality:evoking the moment again!|