These three tanka could each: These three tanka could each stand alone, yet they fuse seamlessly together into a garden of physical, spiritual and earthly delights.
Nature is the thread that weaves sensuality and magnificence together. For instance, the cherry blossoms give a foretaste of a similar softness of the socks and their nuanced seduction; warm rain, a thin veil of moisture, awakens something primal in the observer in the second poem; the clouds and sun are vessels for the fully-blossomed love that drenches all creation in the third, forming a resplendent finale to the collection.
An alluring trio.
You set a sumptuous and: You set a sumptuous and intriguing stage. I would love to see where this goes! Something wonderful is certainly waiting to happen behind those "silken tapestry curtains" amid the "calm rhythmic clacking" in this mysterious place.
Great possibilities!
So clever! I adore the way: So clever! I adore the way you illustrated how much we "furless primates" can learn from these regal beings.
A charming and very valuable life lesson.
Mysteriously dark. I had a: Mysteriously dark. I had a rather random thought of the two visiting a tanning salon. But this is far too graphic about incineration and cremation. And due deference is given to the witch and her malevolence, no flippancy there either. I can see a Pixar short as well in my mind's filming eye. Thanks for sharing.
When hands don't reach out,: When hands don't reach out, be your own savior. You'll escape the water. Someone will be waiting with a towel. All the best.
I feel it, and I'm sorry: Feelings of a large room, and a heavy vacuum pushing across the expansive floor. Not a small person in your suffering, though. It's not possible to avoid filling the void with sadness and mourning, even if the sun unsympathetically carries on. The days must be counted, I suppose, till the next phase of life begins. All the best to you. This was really beautiful, no matter how sad. You do love justice.
Forgive me, but, ding dong,: Forgive me, but, ding dong, the witch is dead.
People who make their life upon claims that their bloodline allows them to drink off the backs of the masses are the truest of Welfare Queens. I wish not death upon anyone, but hopefully she gets a second chance to do it right (perhaps in pauper's clothes, next time).
That all said, a nice rhyming scheme, sir, poetically. And your solid use of allusion at the start cued me into what event had transpired, even though I haven't watched, listened to or read the news in about 3 months. Skillful penning!
Neither should we let go.: Neither should we let go. Dreams that are birthed in the innocence of youth are the ones that seem to last a lifetime. Often they guide us in our days. Thanks for sharing.
Going on a dozen years ago,: Going on a dozen years ago, surely there is much more of this where it came from. Hope the pen's up and about although there aren't any other posts since this.