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Happiness
Folder:
DEAD MEMORY
Allow your thoughts to fly and flutter.
There's invisible mountains in the sky.
Neverending imagination ain't a lie.
Petals proliferate perfume invitingly.
A reckoning of things beyond stars,
dreams, the cocoon of consciousness,
undoubtedly a very peculiar pursuit.
How Delightful
And uplifting, your pursuits are in there. Cocoon image exquisite penning.
~S~
I like this poem because,
I like this poem because, even in such a short space, you have an accelerating tone, but then, in the final line, you slam the brake down and bring it to a halt. You write, in this brief poem, like Mozart did in the final bars of the overture to The Magic Flute---a very controlled, but soaring, acceleration which then slams to a close in three loud, E-flat chords. That final line is your version of those three chords. Bravo!
Starward