a castle still survives
covered up with mossy,
emblematic patterns of ivy
its chambers appear hollow
yet laden with apparitions
materializing from the age of its conquests
the cry of battle as well as the song of celebration
emanates from its towers
and crosses its drawbridges
built upon the edge of a cliff
commanding a wide view of the countryside
it once stood tall and apparently impenetrable
yet outside sources blasted into its walls
as well as into its own internal being
making it impossible to endure without scars
a ghostly knight inhabits its contours
searching for any remaining romantic symbolism
to strengthen his scope and inner health
but the castle is old
and presents a dilemma
abandoned to attack itself
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Kathy
Best wishes always
from
Kay
perched on some remote cliff-head to prompt pause for introspection.
a very fine write indeed, honorable knight!
hope you are keeping well.
carolyn
How can I not love this? If I were to move my house just 100yds to the adjacent country lane I would be staring at such battlements day after day from my kitchen window! And its logo is on my desk 24/7 as part of the title of this new regional magazine that I'm editing. For me, this "little fort" is a sign of burgeoning fruitfulness and celebration of a holistic creativity that is in the very air we breathe here, emanating from ancient foundations... We Built This City indeed, San Mistico! :)) xx
Ron
will see that the old castle weathers the battles yet to come.
A metaphorical winner. -gene.
Perservering to build
a modern-day medieval
city
to transport us to
another time and
place.
The renaissance of
the gong
chases away evil
spirits, warns of
interlopers, heals
the sick, and
invokes the dead.
Surrounded by a
permanent unbroken
wall,
erected in solidarity,
fortified by the toil
of limestone poets
and sandstone novelists
building a collective
tomorrow.
Building communal
walls around an
island in a tidal
estuary,
the strata on which
the walls are built,
prone to subsidence
and constant ebb
and flow
and nature's feudal
emotions and
idiosyncrasies.
Unified intelligentsia,
following the directive of
their lead poet,
archaeologists access
the vulnerability
assailed by tide.
We built this city Wall
on a gravel bed with rubble
and mortar.
The advent of artillery, the
Wall becomes redundant
as a defensive structure.
The novelist inspects
projecting pilasters of
superb erotic sculpture,
stone lotus and dancing
nymphs carved on the
caryatid.
The lead poet summons
his well-read, calciferous
disciples to the freestanding
stone wheels under the
chariot pulled by celestial
stone equines, to the
heavens,
and the lead poet recites
building a collective
tomorrow.
We Built This City.
Copyright 2005 Sage Sweetwater, firebrand lesbian novelist
the battlements, with scars within and without,
aren't what they used to be.
John
Regis
Axilea
Take care,
Sherry
Blessings,
Christine
Such strong analogy used in this revealing poem of strength of will and endurance. Sometimes one must look deeply inside to see the true value of one's life. It isn't really about what is on the outside that the world sees, it's about the softness, the true tenderness of one's soul that is either visible to the Universe or kept hidden and protected until death.
Sometimes it is okay to be vunerable and "right" to let the Universe see and it will send messages of guidance and love so that any dilemma or pain can be eased and managed.
This ghostly Knight need not keep searching, romance and love is right there in front of him, he only has to make a leap of faith and trust in the Universe.
My wish for him is to find what he truly desires and he will receive all the love and peace the Universe wants to show him.
Peace, light, and love,
Amber
Cheers,
Dan