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Benevolent moonshine
Folder:
PAPER PURSUIT
A horned crown undesired,
Connecting ethereal tendrils
Of telepathy thru the land,
Sweeps in shallow demands,
Itself but a bickering beast.
When the silver moon comes down
Soft and bright, unsheathing
Its benevolent beams of blue,
Will you partake the truth?
Imagery becomes a living
Imagery becomes a living thing in your blazing imagination. It comes crashing onto the page with astounding symbolism that can speak paragraphs in a few words and then somersault its way into my mind's eye, leaving me wondering: how did this just happen? What wizardry do you wield to conjure something that lives, plays, breathes and entrances like "ethereal tendrils"?
Congratulations on this.
Wow!!! And again I say,
Wow!!! And again I say, WOW!!!!!!!!!!!! You compress so much atmosphere effect in so few lines, and that is always a sign of very classic talent. I apologize for having fallen behind in my reading, but I am glad to have read this today. With every poem of yours that I have read in the past, and this one today, I am the more and more convinced that you are a Symbolist Poet of the highest accomplishment. I was reading some of Mallarme, just last night, but I like this poem better.
Starward