What a wonderful journey this masterpiece just took me through...the last lines very powerful!Awsome work!

I felt such sadness ... a sense of loss, abandonment from your poem, Jude ... Sending warm smiles and sunshine your way, my sweet friend.

Such intensity Jude, soul wrenching loneliness

something familiar about this, a repost?... haunting images, i'm so not ready for anything icy or wintery, hanging onto the last sun rays of summer chosing a mild lingering autumn - rub your hands together and warm them up, so shall the heart be also lifted :)

a lover's environ created out of desire and passion jude -- the conflict with reality as stark as an, "icy sky" -- this is a dream world encounter -- the beauty of a romantic impression is perfectly captured here -- I bid you love and peace my dear friend -- Jon Michael

so close yet so far away comes your words Jude. Another great write.

Newfie Hugs, Rose

Goodness - poetry served rare - quite a vision, (I'm thinking) and even better if its biographical

Jude,

No one sings the metaphor quite like you. This is about the loss of hope and the lover - be she a truth or representative of truth, as a ghost (even with the tenderness of a kiss) can only remind you of the pain. Nicely sculpted in any event.

Always a pleasure to read you sir,

Brian

...vanishing...yet still there, one can feel the emotions in this heartfelt beauty Jude~ stunning!

Just listening to the song Hey Jude, love the Beatles.
This dream is incredible. I used to be able to interpret dreams really well. I am a bit rusty these days. I feel that your inner being is starving for closeness and wants love to come back into your life. The last section of this poem fills the reader with a sense of abandonment, loss, being left to fend for oneself. No one wants this in their life. I can really relate to this whole poem as I was abandoned by my family at a young age. I have worked really hard to lose this feeling of abandonment. As always you leave me digging deeply within to understand your deeply moving poetry.
Live, feel your inner being rising above all pain, and go with guts and warmth of blood feelings toward your destiny!!!! Don't be sucked dry and living like everyone else wants you to live...Free your mind and the rest will follow.
Much peace, light and love,
Amber

This seems like something you may well have had locked away in that Narnian closet of yours, Kartero! The warm elements are a tender shroud, conjuring as always my fixated feather-visions associated with City of Angels and the mischievous Levante winds, beautifully encapsulated within the snow globe of mystery, as you say. But, when the crystals of living wonder and intrigue flurry round us in real-time day after day, it’s hard to know what’s inside and what’s out; what is of warm flesh or cool, other-worldly spirit? We all seem to be writing about being stuck in time or place at the moment, so are the doors of revolving dreams ever moving us forward or keeping us tethered in circles?

As with Seth and Maggie inhabiting different worlds, the snowy atmosphere creates a form of white noise or silence, perhaps, which dubs down the longed-for sense of presence. The imagery in this is livid and vivid and although you speak of your spooky Twilight Lady as having left, it seems to me that, notwithstanding a seeming inability to be physically present, she is at great pains to re-assure you that you are not alone. The “Unfeeling Kiss” in City of Angels becomes here the “Painful Kiss” which draws blood. If you have never seen the two episodes of (my all-time favourite TV serial) Due South, called “Victoria’s Secret”, to the accompanying tune of Sarah McLachlan’s "Possession", I think you would find it resonates with this intriguing poem well. She, of course, also sang and wrote “Angel” in City of Angels. I am so very sorry for any real and actual great loss in your life, Jude; such episodes seem to weigh heavy with us all at the moment. But I love the form you have chosen, which is the shape of tottering little footsteps through that Wild Wood, or recurring wash of surf on shifting sands. Be warm and well always, Dreamskape Kate xx

Lots of longing there, and more left up in the air than settles.

Chip Bergeron

Encounter and time spent in a special ether;
here, Jude, your vision of fragility is very keen.

John

Mirage? Memories? Mystic encounter? The setting is dreamlike and like the reflection in a frozen mirror. Inside the sphere, there seems to be some protection, but once the globe is broken, there is loneliness, danger, sadness... These are the feelings that I find in your poem.

Axilea

...almost etheral in it's story telling nature of love and loss.
fee

the emptiness and cold of being left alone. well penned My Friend.

Wow you write so well my fellow Bronxite.
GOD BLESS YOU
Tony

Wonderful mystical poem!
Are you engaging with the shadow here perhaps, some untenable situation, or maybe just a personification of raw passion? Not sure, but it's fascinating :)
Blessings,
Christine

Bloody cold poem that was. The question mark refers to the number lost in time as the frozen lips seal the hot water of love in death--I think?

Ron

lots to feel and consider

Your dreams are bloody nightmares...keep them in NY...;-)e

Prophetic and almost a feel of being captive after years of whiteouts. Polar in scope, close to home in delivery...stepping on a cargo scale in the arctic mind, "frigid zone" weighing in on illusion. To remold oneself is to become part of the ice. Foxes never waste a step on ice, they take the easiest path, not the shortest. Blood rolling from the foxes lips mean they are nourished. Great poetry, Jude...

Sage

Maybe you need to sit in an open space and quietly await her return.

Has a lonely, sombre atmospheric mood.

A rather unsettling offering, Jude. It roams from smooth and sweet to a fever dream, riviting and well written.
Take care,
Sherry

Well, it said "dream scene" in the email, but what the heck,long as I'm here, and since YOU have written it, I'll read this one . . . Then again, maybe "Bloody Lips" IS the dream scene . . .

Whoa!! Bloody lips and an apparition on the lose is fodder for my twisted brain. Well written. Classical style. Appealing to those of us who care deeply about the spirit world that surrounds, and affect us on our daily appointed rounds.

I really liked the bloody lips effect. THAT was some kinda kiss, buddy.