Looking Through Stained Glass


He imagines
So many things
Cabbage and kings
Of shoes and ships

And with a wink
Easily slips
Poetic blips
Of the arcane

Rivers auburn
A mind insane
The odd bloodstain
Can sometimes scare

So he spins words
With utmost care
and takes me there
On crescent waves

Triumphant tales
From birth to grave
And each I save
I know their worth

It’s in his sphere
Of cosmic girth
Welkin and earth
The tales he’s had

And more to come
Verbal nomad
I call him dad
And my hero

Household legend
But he does know
The seeds he sow
Its my award

Gaze of rapture
He looks forward
To his reward
When it’s my turn

To tell such tales
Old or modern
Aubades, nocturnes
The moods I’ll bring

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© 2005 Raivenne (All rights reserved)

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