.
Far away across the sea
an island cloaked in mystery.
Where nothing is as it appears
because it exists between the spheres.

Poetica speaks as she spins
flying high within the winds.
Words flow in rivers deep
climbing mountains to fall asleep.

Resting fair on velvet green
in secret valleys so serene.
Shady glades in woodlands snore,
comforted beyond misty shores.

It is there verse and rhyme are born,
upon Poetica's burgeoning dawn,
floating away and out of sight,
into Poetica's beautiful night.

from 'Selected Works'
by Lord Pagan of Poetica


© Pagan Paul (10/09/17)

.
The Land of Poetica is viewed
as far as the eye can see,
reaching out to unknown shores
edging the oceans of infinity.

Each drop is a Lord or a Lady
contributing to the community,
sending out their words of Art
with no judgement nor impunity.

Though storms may hit at times
rocking the boat of security,
waves of the Lords and Ladies
save Poetica from obscurity.

from 'Selected Works'  
by Lord Pagan of Poetica


© Pagan Paul (22/06/17)

.
Far atop the highest clouds,
down below the deepest seas,
all the space thats in betwixt,
words will flow with skilful ease.

At every point upon the compass,
around about three-sixty degrees,
the tumbling omni-present sound
of words upon Poetica's breeze.

So fly high above the clouds,
and swim deep beneath the seas,
Poetica is freedom to express,
and Her words no law decrees.


from 'Selected Works'  
by Lord Pagan of Poetica


© Pagan Paul (23/09/17)