jueves, enero 01, 2009

Feathertheless- pintura de William Blake "Ghost"



And so my waking found its end
Amongst the dirtiest selves, my friend
For "elves" these selves claimed not to be
An "s" they merged with that prime "e"

Unless they were to appear in books
With names misspelled. The hideous looks!
It took last time many as much
O' scribes to mend errors and such
Hence none are still alive today
They all in words were led astray

But Ho! Returning to our tale
(As big as that of a blue whale)
"Hail to the beast!" I therefore said.
And slightly tilted LEFT my head...
Then all went still to my surprise
No sound was heard, I did realise
That REAL these eyes quite suddenly
Leapt top-to-bottom from a tree.

I ran like hell, jumping around
Quick exits weren't to be found
Until I finally came along
The thought of why this could be wrong!
Reasonable it seemed to think
That after gulping my last drink
Into the deepest sleep I fell
Only-in such dreams these things do dwell

And so we shall by now awake
To leave all madness home, at stake
(And for our true sanity's sake)

2 comentarios:

.Ana Mata. dijo...

Why hello my sweet.
I am to be found with sea and sand
returning visit to a wonderous cyberland.

(Thrilled, as a matter of fact, by such profound and magestic poetry.)

Such strength in your words comes through...
I can but congratulate you.

Hahaha! Suuuup?
Bueno, de verdad me gustó la página.
Te mando besitos,
.Ana.

Ya agregé su (b)link a la mía... ;)

The Bee Charmer dijo...

I shall be no less than grateful, utterly so m'lass; for such a mighty cheerful comment ain't EZ to come by :)
Why,
Say,
How can one manage to flutter so flattery or flatter with so flappy a flutter?
Jajajaja Cheerio Anita, 'tis an honour