The pool, lit by fire and darkly covered by smoke,
Half-revealed the foreign glade,
But the assembled crowd; we did not at first see
And buckled bronze leaves fell from ebony trees
Upon our porcelain braids. 

By the golden grin we took our vows
Beneath a silver sun,
In company of dogs and wolves, while
Listened the silver one. 

And the dulcimer reeds piped a breathy air
For a chorus of snowy owls;
While ravens spread the spider web veil,
A hoisted, wind-whipped, gossamer sail,
To guide the panther’s prowl. 

Sapphic skies of Grecian form filled themselves
With lame and languid doves,
Over a shimmering, wave-washed, sandy Sound,
Where daughters cried and were sent to drown
Their lame and languid loves. 

So I took arms with a red dirt woman
Below the golden grin,
While shocked and sore, her red dirt folk
Beheld our golden sin. 

And while the clover-bane Queen was gazing up,
We snatched her broken crown
And her scepter cracked against marble tack,
While the monkeys chattered against our backs,
And threw her jewels around. 

At last we fled and broke a final, flying dive,
To the Earth Queen’s brown despair.
We swam between sugar-glazed whirlpools,
Deeper still, than reaches the regent’s rule,
‘til we reached the moonlit stair.

Author guidance for This poem

An embrace of the surreal.

updated Mar 27 '11 by Lyre