Suspended Between Mirrors
Since his eyes were
so hungry
to feast on her form ..
He set about
erecting a bank of tall
mirrors
either side of the clear
water stream
where she so often did
bathe ..
Tho’ since he wanted
to see
her reflection so badly
suspended ..
He did yet lean further
and further
above and then o’er
the water ..
From the bridge he thus
created tween
those fine mirrors of his ..
And as she
descended, like an angel
from heaven ..
Unaware of his presence
she slipped
from her robes and into
the water ..
Where likewise, he too
sadly slipped
and did drown, in her image ..
-
Author:
Neville (
Offline) - Published: April 11th, 2023 03:30
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 15
- Users favorite of this poem: Accidental Poet
Offline)
Comments6
Yes, it happened to me - I did this, and fell in the river! Doh!
Not that I was spying on KP. That would be too ghastly.
I read of a couple who wanted a foursome with Ken Barlow and Lulu. I would never recover if I saw any videos of it!
You need to watch where you are going .. folk might get the right idea ..
How could anyone survive, or be the same ever again, if seeing anything of that foursome? Too ghastly! lol.
I believe that's called, "falling in love". 🙂
Absolutely .. go on, make me chuckle why dont 'cha 😎 ))
Well, if you insist...
And when tears of laughter
Flow like rivers from your eyes
You’ll try to gain composure
Then suddenly wonder why 😁
A hunger for romantic antics to catch beauty unclothed can lead to a finalé so tragic I almost wept and at the same time started to laugh at your ever fertile imagination so expertly scribed mon ami and as ever I loved every line ...........x
I think that's precisely the reaction I was hoping for Fay, thanks a million my very dearest of Fay's .. x
Ah, be careful what you wish for. I can only assume that his heart's desire fulfilled, he died a happy man. Sad, but beautifully told dear friend.
now that's just what I wanted to hear .. many thanks Bella
May that love be a reality instead of images Neville.
Andy
there's nowt wrong in imagining Andy, that's where both dreams and poems seep through 🐧🤍
my mythology mind, reaches for Echo and Narcissus
mirage, linkages
my love of Keats takes me to his Lamia verses
''Fast by the springs where she to bathe was wont,
And in those meads where sometime she might haunt,
Were strewn rich gifts, unknown to any Muse,
Though Fancy's casket were unlock'd to choose.
Ah, what a world of love was at her feet!''
(yet, when all rapture of reactionary immediacy
finds in me a portal to serene, thought
I must take heed and realise, once more
dear Poet supreme
it be your words and poetry, alone
that stir me to realms of poetic ecstasy)
and thus I thank ye, with utmost sincerity
(lol
forgive my egotistical foolery Hyung
I just loved your poem)
I am honoured beyond the point where adequate and apt words by way of a response, are likely to elude me for the foreseeable .. in the interim, my meagre thank you will have to suffice, but I will make it a BIG un THANK YOU MEK 🙂
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