Notice of absence from arqios
🕊 🙏🏻🕊️
🕊 🙏🏻🕊️
Hair in the wind
Brown in the sun
Midday-born light—
Silken strands of crested corn.
Jack was nimble
he was quick
but he's not taking that candlestick.
All the queen's horses
and all the queen's men
run their own courses,
then run them again.
Sparks light the sky
a brilliant welder's flash
a jewel in disguise
a jouster's winning prize;
and yet, a clockwork dandelion
sings softly to forgotten stars.
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Author:
crypticbard (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: April 13th, 2025 03:04
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 41
- Users favorite of this poem: sorenbarrett, Tristan Robert Lange, Cheeky Missy, Kevin Hulme
Offline)
Comments10
Beautiful images mixed with nursery rhyme tells of deeper meaning and some very nice lines particularly the whole last stanza. Cryptically imaged in the poem is the heavens and what is so obvious becomes metaphor. Very nicely done my firend
I’m so glad that came through; with such astute observation it has made its mark; thank you so much Soren🙏🏻🕊️
To someone with a slow mind some of the lines came through only on the second reading like
(All the queen's horses
and all the queen's men
run their own courses,
then run them again.)
referring to the celestial bodies in their movements in reoccurring cycles. Brilliant!
That’s awesome Soren! Glad of the unfolding of these celestial threads 🌌🙏🏻🕊️
A lovely read for a sunday, mixture of child gone songs and lovely imagery, I am probably completly of the track, but this gave me the feeling of children who are no longer here and are now seen in the stars, enjoyed the read
Oh that beautiful and not entirely “off course” but a much welcome possibility in the wide spectrum of understandings. Many thanks for voicing your thoughts🙏🏻🕊️
You are very welcome
When in despair, look up
Some childhood memories here with a touch of regret.Always a delight to read your poems mi amigo
Thanks mate, much appreciated, as ever🙏🏻🕊️
Love the blending of nursery rhyme and metaphor. This feels like a lullaby sung after the world has moved on—a song for what remains: old stories, natural beauty, and the celestial dust that makes up the cosmos. It is weary but has whimsy; filled with light, yet shadowed by the longing for things once bright and now dimmed in our memories. Or, at least, that is what I get out of it. A brilliant poem and a fave for sure. 🌹👏
Quite spot on mate! Thanks heaps🕊🙏🏻
Yay! You are most welcome, my friend! I loved the poem for sure!
Imagine the manifestation.
Indeed🕊🙏🏻
Brilliant imagery.
Thanks Thomas 🙏🏻🕊️
Beautiful
That’s really good to know; thanks kindly 🙏🏻🕊️
You're welcome
Very Edward Lear in places .
Nice One.
Thanks kindly. I shall revisit his work as it has been quite a while now. 🙏🏻🕊️
Wonderful words arqios bring joy to all.
Andy
Thank you, Andy🙏🏻🕊️
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