Saturday, 17 January 2009

Hylas.

He caressed her hair

allowing strands to filter through his fingers like spun silk.

Ripples of burnished gold cascading into shades of autumn colours

shimmering with glimmering light.


He was dazzled, beguiled,

lost in the promise of her whispered words

and persuaded beyond this world

All consumed, in a viable, desirable dream.

8 comments:

  1. yum :). ... it reminds me of that song.. fields of gold...

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  2. Thank You Annie, I love that song too almost as much as mythology and images of the femme fatale art/history.

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  3. Poor Hylas.He sounds Lost?

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  4. beguiled is a word I have had a strong love affair with for some time.

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  5. There's some interesting rhythms going on there. I like the sort of bumpy bounce you get in the last line.

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  6. Tony: I don't think Hylas ever stood a chance really against those Water Nymphs.

    Matt: Fascinating how some words draw us in isn't it? As though they were created to roll around our imagination conjuring up all kinds of magical images.

    Brad: Bumpy Bounce! Mmm, methinks there is a poet within you too Mr Green.

    Thank you for all your comments, they are much appreciated.

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  7. Mmm.. me thinks there is a romantic in you...)

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  8. Selchie: I don't know, maybe, I'm digging deep to conjure one up.

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