Serious in their quiet fuss,
The children gather starlight in their baskets.
Making the glow worms jealous with the loss.
Lying with the leaves in their makeshift caskets.
Taking them home to hang from the ceiling,
Sleeping under Orion’s eyes.
The dimness has an eerie feeling,
Of soaring through the starry skies.
The silver strands that mutely glitter,
Makes the young ones drowsy and odd.
Waiting for dreams to come and claim them,
Led by Winkin’, Blinkin’, and Nod.
Candles left to work their magic,
Flickering in the dark…
Choosing which shadows to trick,
By dancing across to leave their mark.
Left as peaceful as it would get,
Only spot-lit from the moon.
Just as the night would calmly have it,
Wondering from room to room.
Extraordinary use of anthropomorphism (humanising the inanimate).
E.g:
Making the glow worms jealous with the loss.
Lying with the leaves in their makeshift caskets.
Candles left to work their magic,
Flickering in the dark…
Choosing which shadows to trick,
By dancing across to leave their mark.
This stansa in particular could comfortably fit into Fantasia as a segment set to a C.Saint-Saens' piece (Fossils from Le Carnaval des animaux, springs to mind).
'The children gather starlight in their baskets.'
Indeed!
Evocative imagery that sprouts from the peat, rich soil of fertile imagination. From a writer so young and still a long way off from the height of her powers, we have a bountiful literary harvest to enjoy both in the present and in the future.
Robin Ouzman Hislop's poetry is certainly in dialogue with some of the key architects of the 'poetics of indeterminacy' – both the Modernist strands represented by the likes of Beckett and Stein, and the postmodernist strands represented, initially,
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E.g:
Making the glow worms jealous with the loss.
Lying with the leaves in their makeshift caskets.
Candles left to work their magic,
Flickering in the dark…
Choosing which shadows to trick,
By dancing across to leave their mark.
This stansa in particular could comfortably fit into Fantasia as a segment set to a C.Saint-Saens' piece (Fossils from Le Carnaval des animaux, springs to mind).
'The children gather starlight in their baskets.'
Indeed!
Evocative imagery that sprouts from the peat, rich soil of fertile imagination. From a writer so young and still a long way off from the height of her powers, we have a bountiful literary harvest to enjoy both in the present and in the future.
Regards
Daibhidh
Fee
(((HUGS))) and love, Karla.
Love you!
mom