imaginary workshop for re-creation

New project on WordPress

http://windsongmyths.wordpress.com/

myths new and revisioned

OPERATOR’S MANUAL

notes playing to a theme

libra’s child
What is this “love” that pulls me to you?
A gauze of hope, desire, imagination
woven with faery dust, tied by good strong cord.
Pulse arousing, clinging, anchoring and ringing,
those siren bells of joyous meeting.
I am beguiled by those bells, ringing in the clouds
while rain weeps down
gently on my fingertips.
You have kissed these hands, quickened by surprise.
Enchanted interludes, moments between time,
so that time drags now, drags me down
harshly weighted.
It was but theater of
aspired visions weaving.
Would that I could gaily entertain,
remain curious and blithely
naive child.
Would that it be enough
to trip veils’ ecstatic trance,
loving intricacies
of intimacy.
Fall from Innocence
You found out that things can’t always be
just neat and clean and bright.
You found out that sometimes right ain’t strong
and wrong is right.
You found out a lot that Ma and Pa’d 
never want you to know.
You’re found out in the streets in the snow 
    with nowhere to go.
Ain’t it a bitch, what you’ve found out.
Ain’t you a bitch when you’re found out.
You ain’t so sweet and true anymore
The world ain’t pink and blue anymore
And you’re living in a world that
wasn’t just made for you.
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