I bought the two DVDs of the Zurich Meistersinger on Thursday and have been
luxuriating with them ever since so there is only one possible poem to post
today dating from over twenty years ago. Very arrogant but now I am waiting
for the Masters on TV.
Feasting
I am the shape-maker
electing out of the murmuring voices
assonance and rhythm.
I weave from the singularity of love
triptychs of before and after.
The constant spell amazes me
as I fashion this glottal sympathy.
Never to look back and say it was.
Never to look forward and repeat the question.
It was there in the moonlight
as I brushed a tear from your cheek,
Your eyes lit by Paradise,
as you asked yourself where the rainbow lay.
The lost years of youth burn brightest
in the elation of your calm intelligence;
Absurd before and after.
Trapped together for eternity
by an absence of words,
The eyes, making a mockery of language
at the feast of the soul.
You, so pretty.
Douglas Clark, Bath, Somerset, England ....
http://www.dgdclynx.plus.com
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