Between the what if’s…
That magical dimension,
Akin to delusions or psychoses.
Where one holds to a tiny thread of subjective reality,
A confirmed impossibility,
Only in the realm of gentle probability,
From the mind of one, single, beautiful, intelligent, creative, unique, human being…
Who’s to say any of us are wrong?
©2017 Elizabeth Dianne Allee
I remember first witnessing your beauty,
Like stained glass crafted by God’s hands.
Colors selected with a keen eye.
Division with such precision and command.
Iridescent angelic highlights,
Setting you apart from the rest.
Eyes a piercing crimson,
Mahogany speckled breast.
Paintbrush strokes of black and white,
You returned a glance at me.
Wood duck, Axi sponsa…”water betrothed”
Dressed for a wedding are we?
The final Two-for-Tuesday prompt for this month is:
Write a realism poem. A poem that is rooted in the real world. Or…
Write a magical poem. A poem that incorporates magical or fantastical elements.
Rising to greet
The dreams in his mind
Awakening him from slumber
Asleep or awake
Draped in fantasy’s luster
Mysteries unfolding slowly
Eyes half opened and
Peering into enchantment
Created in his mind
Appear in connecting fragments
Weaving yesterday’s remembrances
With futuristic anticipations
He’s lifted to woven plains
Where blank pages lie
To offer up spaces
For forethoughts and remains