Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
#bells
The day felt warm, The skies were bright, The air filled with peace, As if the world rehearsed, To honour your sunniest day. Donning a pristine white gown, Sublime, shining heels, A lovely pearl necklace, Your cute oyster bracelet, And that glimmering smile, Radiating love and joy, You shone like a graceful dove Proudly styling her feathers. I sat quietly in the shade, Waiting below an old olive tree, Eyeing the church, mindlessly, Lulled by the chirps Of the little olive enjoyers. Suddenly, The temple resonated, Its bells spilling over, Scaring the pretty perched doves, As I watched them take flight, Storming the sky, flying away, Carrying my heart. Now lighter, I stood up, Took a deep breath, And headed to the festive mass. Family and friends gathered Dancing, cheering all around you. I slowly made my way forward, Through the dense crowd, until My eyes locked with your dreaming gaze. I congratulated you in a light hug, Wished love, happiness upon you, And could not resist asking: How does it feel for Mariposita? To which your sweet lips whispered, That peaceful melody, "Folkloric" With a heart beaming warmth. I grinned back at you, Swam in those precious ojitos, One last time, And crawled back To darker skies, As love echoed From afar.
0
Feb 13
Feb 13, 2026 at 6:59 AM UTC
Folkloric
Scream, scream, scream, and scream Sometimes, you want to scream But you cannot, you just cannot You can no longer dream You just cannot, but you cannot You cannot eat, you cannot fall asleep But can only imagine and think deep Nothing is possibly going right And you know that you must fight To go on, because so much is at stake And you must grab the flag, head or take The leadership to struggle, to protect And to save so many. Respect Is what you earn when you win Success is what you deserve when You defeat the hypocrites, the bullies The wild henchmen, and the enemies Scream, scream for every human being to be free Scream, scream and dream of freedom and liberty. The enemies are alert, arrogant and watching The serpents are sneaky, deadly and sneering You must be the best that you can By being a silent fighter, a brave person Sometimes, you want to scream But you can no longer dream Even though you can't scream, don't give up Never, never give up, because hope Is the last resort. And miracles Will happen to the ones, not at the tables Because they are now too weak to speak And too powerless to reach the peak But do your best to scream internally Scream inward and mumble to be free Words cannot be killed and murdered And words can be silently muttered All the victims will mumble, in unison, one day Like the irate thunders of a treacherous storm To charm the hopeless and to sound the alarm From a good fight, you shall never walk away God is always watching and listening You and I must not be afraid to scream We must find a way to dream and to ring The bells of opportunities, to stream Like the flows of a thawing river in spring Yes, you and I must stand up to chant and to sing The songs of success, the words of peace and freedom So the deaf shall hear and shall overcome Scream, scream, scream, and dream To wake up the dead from their dream Scream, and scream to shatter the armors of the injustice Scream, scream and scream until the world is in peace. Copyright © February 2020, Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved. Hébert Logerie is the author of several collections of poems.
0
Oct 9, 2025
Oct 9, 2025 at 11:40 PM UTC
Scream Of Freedom And Liberty
Scream, scream, scream, and scream Sometimes, you want to scream But you cannot, you just cannot You can no longer dream You just cannot, but you cannot You cannot eat, you cannot fall asleep But can only imagine and think deep Nothing is possibly going right And you know that you must fight To go on, because so much is at stake And you must grab the flag, head or take The leadership to struggle, to protect And to save so many. Respect Is what you earn when you win Success is what you deserve when You defeat the hypocrites, the bullies The wild henchmen, and the enemies Scream, scream for every human being to be free Scream, scream and dream of freedom and liberty. The enemies are alert, arrogant and watching The serpents are sneaky, deadly and sneering You must be the best that you can By being a silent fighter, a brave person Sometimes, you want to scream But you can no longer dream Even though you can't scream, don't give up Never, never give up, because hope Is the last resort. And miracles Will happen to the ones, not at the tables Because they are now too weak to speak And too powerless to reach the peak But do your best to scream internally Scream inward and mumble to be free Words cannot be killed and murdered And words can be silently muttered All the victims will mumble, in unison, one day Like the irate thunders of a treacherous storm To charm the hopeless and to sound the alarm From a good fight, you shall never walk away God is always watching and listening You and I must not be afraid to scream We must find a way to dream and to ring The bells of opportunities, to stream Like the flows of a thawing river in spring Yes, you and I must stand up to chant and to sing The songs of success, the words of peace and freedom So the deaf shall hear and shall overcome Scream, scream, scream, and dream To wake up the dead from their dream Scream, and scream to shatter the armors of the injustice Scream, scream and scream until the world is in peace. Copyright © February 2020, Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved. Hébert Logerie is the author of several collections of poems.
Continue reading...
53
Bound in blessings with the Left -                  Brother Left! Joined in patriotic love of country - fellow man!         How we quarrel, quarrel, quarrel, In pursuit of governing!         Stars and stripes define our kinship, Coupled by our common heirship Providential comforting;            Striving on, on, on,          In the stately pantheon, And respectful competition of opinions coalesced        From the Left, Left, Left, Left,                Left, Left, Left -   From the striving and reviving of the Left.         Hear the agitating Left,                  Fearful Left! Having aspirations of equality expressed!         Notions quite inferior -         Vaunting ours - superior! From the birth of modern man     The crown is ours. God-anointed master plan   Grants the bounty to the chosen ruling clan -    Avatars!            Rightful is our point of view! Such a farce to claim equivalence in detinue!    How undue!    How untrue!            Parity!?! They misconstrue! Toleration? We eschew -          And the thieving, and deceiving            Of the Left, Left, Left,          Of the Left, Left, Left, Left,                Left, Left, Left -   To the squeaking and the shrieking of the Left!          Hear the loud and loathsome Left -                  Traitor Left! Behold their filthy claims of equity expressed!          Speaking for their people now,        In a gruesome, ghastly growl! Bellowing their heresies, From their foul vicinities,                   Blasphemies! All the voices tell me that the Left is savage and insane, All the faces sell me feelings of derision and disdain,            Ceaseless refrain, refrain, refrain,             Feed the chorus to sustain That which makes me feel exceptional, Castigating as contemptible,       Anyone with views apart from mine.             Oh, the Left, Left! Left! Inhumane and demonized,       Reviled! How they dream, and scream, and scheme!        How could anyone oppose Righteous, pure and godly promulgated truth?        Yet the chosen few persist, Through the gnashing, And the thrashing,       ‘Owning Libs’ is sacrosanct; Even though the mirror shows,        The heaving, And the seething.        And the cowardice repeating, Of the spinelessness - projected on the Left—              On the Left—      On the Left, Left, Left, Left,             Left, Left, Left— In the droning and the groaning of the Left!           Hear the venom of the Left -                  Evil Left! Claiming equity of those awash in melanin! Fetid fiends of arrogance, Threatening our dominance,        Damaging hegemony,       Weakening supremacy, Of the righteous, rightful heirs of kingdom come! The heresies that they espouse,       Causes panic to arouse;      Evilness!               Oh! These wicked, loathsome creatures,        WIth disgusting, grotesque features;                  Vileness!         And their preaching, preaching, preaching,           In their pitched and putrid screeching, Mutual inclusion teaching!                   Oh, what awful, wretched swine!      Having sold their own humanity      For prolonged insanity!                 The fools!         Look at them! It’s not us, not me!         Can’t you see? See!?! See!!!                     SEE!              Paranoia on the Left!          How delusional they are,              Maniacal are the Left!           Spying on my ev’ry move!           Telling lies, lies, lies!           Being kind is for the week!,              Tell that to the dreadful Left—                The wretched Left -           Telling lies, lies, lies!           Selfishness in virtue!             Hear the throbbing of the Left -           Of the Left, Left, Left -             Hear the sobbing of the Left;           Telling lies, lies, lies,             And they creep, creep, creep,           Spying on me as I sleep!             Oh! The mania of the Left -           Of the Left, Left, Left -             The hysteria of the Left,       Of the Left, Left, Left, Left -               Left, Left, Left -   And the moaning and the foaming of the Left.
0
Oct 3, 2025
Oct 3, 2025 at 2:18 PM UTC
The Left
Bound in blessings with the Left -                  Brother Left! Joined in patriotic love of country - fellow man!         How we quarrel, quarrel, quarrel, In pursuit of governing!         Stars and stripes define our kinship, Coupled by our common heirship Providential comforting;            Striving on, on, on,          In the stately pantheon, And respectful competition of opinions coalesced        From the Left, Left, Left, Left,                Left, Left, Left -   From the striving and reviving of the Left.         Hear the agitating Left,                  Fearful Left! Having aspirations of equality expressed!         Notions quite inferior -         Vaunting ours - superior! From the birth of modern man     The crown is ours. God-anointed master plan   Grants the bounty to the chosen ruling clan -    Avatars!            Rightful is our point of view! Such a farce to claim equivalence in detinue!    How undue!    How untrue!            Parity!?! They misconstrue! Toleration? We eschew -          And the thieving, and deceiving            Of the Left, Left, Left,          Of the Left, Left, Left, Left,                Left, Left, Left -   To the squeaking and the shrieking of the Left!          Hear the loud and loathsome Left -                  Traitor Left! Behold their filthy claims of equity expressed!          Speaking for their people now,        In a gruesome, ghastly growl! Bellowing their heresies, From their foul vicinities,                   Blasphemies! All the voices tell me that the Left is savage and insane, All the faces sell me feelings of derision and disdain,            Ceaseless refrain, refrain, refrain,             Feed the chorus to sustain That which makes me feel exceptional, Castigating as contemptible,       Anyone with views apart from mine.             Oh, the Left, Left! Left! Inhumane and demonized,       Reviled! How they dream, and scream, and scheme!        How could anyone oppose Righteous, pure and godly promulgated truth?        Yet the chosen few persist, Through the gnashing, And the thrashing,       ‘Owning Libs’ is sacrosanct; Even though the mirror shows,        The heaving, And the seething.        And the cowardice repeating, Of the spinelessness - projected on the Left—              On the Left—      On the Left, Left, Left, Left,             Left, Left, Left— In the droning and the groaning of the Left!           Hear the venom of the Left -                  Evil Left! Claiming equity of those awash in melanin! Fetid fiends of arrogance, Threatening our dominance,        Damaging hegemony,       Weakening supremacy, Of the righteous, rightful heirs of kingdom come! The heresies that they espouse,       Causes panic to arouse;      Evilness!               Oh! These wicked, loathsome creatures,        WIth disgusting, grotesque features;                  Vileness!         And their preaching, preaching, preaching,           In their pitched and putrid screeching, Mutual inclusion teaching!                   Oh, what awful, wretched swine!      Having sold their own humanity      For prolonged insanity!                 The fools!         Look at them! It’s not us, not me!         Can’t you see? See!?! See!!!                     SEE!              Paranoia on the Left!          How delusional they are,              Maniacal are the Left!           Spying on my ev’ry move!           Telling lies, lies, lies!           Being kind is for the week!,              Tell that to the dreadful Left—                The wretched Left -           Telling lies, lies, lies!           Selfishness in virtue!             Hear the throbbing of the Left -           Of the Left, Left, Left -             Hear the sobbing of the Left;           Telling lies, lies, lies,             And they creep, creep, creep,           Spying on me as I sleep!             Oh! The mania of the Left -           Of the Left, Left, Left -             The hysteria of the Left,       Of the Left, Left, Left, Left -               Left, Left, Left -   And the moaning and the foaming of the Left.
Continue reading...
115
Blank men carry black stones to riverbeds and call all who wake before the bells to follow. They do not worry about tomorrow because tomorrow is never and blank men are naught. They do not ride horses because horses mean work. They do not fall in love because love means deep being. They do not chant prayers because prayers make believe. They only carry black stones to riverbeds because rivers are always changing. *“Don all ye that come, with lamp and cloak and speak the nameless name of the river you step into. Bright be we that carry this darkness and shadow be us that survive the light. Ask not why you carry these stones, but hurl them into the void and see your reflection tremble.”* At this they move on and repeat themselves, with new faces and no names, to places that don’t exist and people that never were. Blank men carry black stones to riverbeds and call all who wake before the bells to follow.
0
Sep 27, 2025
Sep 27, 2025 at 7:32 PM UTC
blank men and no places
father of the bells swinging. great weights to give praise while we set aside our silent alleluias. what gives us cause to build with symbols, brick upon storied pages, is the opportunity to teach us generosity, could there be a greater gift than that? we seek unusual beauties, a flower in a dying woman's hair, bearing witness of the fresh clean linen table cloth, hidden there small flecks of flesh and spotted blood, we become, swinging in the breath of god, as sounds from the bells summoning us to sleep.
0
Sep 24, 2025
Sep 24, 2025 at 2:43 AM UTC
flowers in a dying woman's hair
Loosened from the ropes, the bells are chiming around -- in their ecstasy.
0
Jun 17, 2025
Jun 17, 2025 at 2:05 AM UTC
[ Loosened from the ropes ]
While withy branches tap tick tack in the puddles - the bells are ringing.
0
May 10, 2025
May 10, 2025 at 2:48 AM UTC
[ While withy branches ]
Alone sits the tower's bell, In the glow of lantern light. Looking out at the town, Silently gazing upon the night-fell streets. Every day, the elders yearn to hear it ring again, They want to hear the sound they know. From their childhood, they remember, What it was like to hear the bronze ring echo. Yet, the children, Don't have a chance to forget.
0
Jan 15, 2025
Jan 15, 2025 at 4:19 PM UTC
The Bell Tower At Night
A-walking in a cobbled street, I breathe the brittle winter air, the crunch of frost beneath my feet. The early hour’s sunbeams flare. Arising in the ice-blue sky three stone church towers stand and wait. Their spires point to the most high as morning sunlight splashes paint across their well-worn windswept face. These turrets of a sacred keep stand silent witness, each stone traced by time’s sharp fingers etching deep: I hear each crack and crevice sing a murmured prayer for us to stand and listen to the brass bells ring over sunlit frosted land.
0
Dec 8, 2024
Dec 8, 2024 at 12:43 PM UTC
The towers’ plea
What is love? A quest, You totally are the best, Wake me up in bliss, Takes more than our kiss, It is beyond sublime, Stood the test of time, Better man no love could bring, You make this heart's bells ring,. Guess I am still in love, Love is sign from above.
0
Oct 31, 2024
Oct 31, 2024 at 3:54 PM UTC
Love is a sign.
the night cares                                                            and we are it's batteries it licks us like a daring child                                              and the night avian raptors are tufted   and their prey is energized                 and the chase/escape scenario   is a burly-hurly     flight night                                                   and the trees push around the winds and breath is the current of life         and the furnaces tick down and an unreal peeling                                   of the church human bells (calling the hour or the faithful to prayer)  aids my constructive dreaming bleed chimney awoke the night licks me                                                                      like a daring child licking a battery   but caring also                                                       like a cat removing the amniotic sac                  from it's newborn
0
Dec 22, 2023
Dec 22, 2023 at 3:08 PM UTC
c h i m n e y
In the solace of lavender-flickering Fairy lights that guide My syllables along, Silence has never felt so Concrete. Silence, on questions I have asked my Conscious for repetition, and To hunt for answers To unwritten dialogue, And as I contemplate this concept, The beauty of ringing church bells Bleeds and creeps Through my window, Slicing through the distorted Avenues and Sulcis of silence In my mind,                       To remind me                                                 Of where I am. Lying in the back of my car, Keys in the transmission, Waiting,                                                                   Hoping, For a new path to explore In this eclectic figure 8 of Communication and relationship. I never Try to make sense of it all, Until A faint whisper from a Princess unshackles My liberating-attempting mind, A faint whisper, harmonizing with the Church bells, Soothingly-caresses my ears, A faint whisper, Carrying, The words. I’ve. longed. To. hear. “Come with me this way.” Hallucination of grace. An overflowing melting *** Of desire. Stillness. Gracious like A still river. Cercadas sing, Rocks in awe don’t move. Until the moment of that faint whisper, I’ll remain in the spacious jar of silence, Waiting, For the Princess’ voices, While the solace of lavender-flickering Fairy lights Guide my syllables along.
0
Aug 24, 2023
Aug 24, 2023 at 12:14 AM UTC
Waiting, For A Whisper
In the solace of lavender-flickering Fairy lights that guide My syllables along, Silence has never felt so Concrete. Silence, on questions I have asked my Conscious for repetition, and To hunt for answers To unwritten dialogue, And as I contemplate this concept, The beauty of ringing church bells Bleeds and creeps Through my window, Slicing through the distorted Avenues and Sulcis of silence In my mind,                       To remind me                                                 Of where I am. Lying in the back of my car, Keys in the transmission, Waiting,                                                                   Hoping, For a new path to explore In this eclectic figure 8 of Communication and relationship. I never Try to make sense of it all, Until A faint whisper from a Princess unshackles My liberating-attempting mind, A faint whisper, harmonizing with the Church bells, Soothingly-caresses my ears, A faint whisper, Carrying, The words. I’ve. longed. To. hear. “Come with me this way.” Hallucination of grace. An overflowing melting *** Of desire. Stillness. Gracious like A still river. Cercadas sing, Rocks in awe don’t move. Until the moment of that faint whisper, I’ll remain in the spacious jar of silence, Waiting, For the Princess’ voices, While the solace of lavender-flickering Fairy lights Guide my syllables along.
Continue reading...
53
Breath of a promise Such for sincerity or more The chance to walk with a vice Is reality to sulk at the advances of worth? *** was a friend... Done to delineates tea The world in being ends Only when sour blessings make free Change your mind... With a handful of hope, found in your norm... Savior's mere, a calling of kinds... Sanity to dance and dance, with beauty to form... The very words, to life was dread, mere Dear to a shadowy fear, of reasons Succinct enough, for lead word's to hear The music of persuasion, in loves season Cares that only an angel could know: Devil's with a taste, for humility Should begin with patience, as a wind to blow Baring the with, the other side of a simpler vanity?
0
May 21, 2023
May 21, 2023 at 8:45 PM UTC
Lower By Burden's Bell, A Friend?
Christmas is the time of year We celebrate with family near The holy message from above The glory of God’s perfect love We see the woods and snowy fields Thankful for their summer yields That keeps us through the winter frost Running on faith that’s never lost See the bright lights and hear the bells Warming fires and stories to tell Sugar cookies and Christmas pies And wonder in the children’s eyes And as we sing, and run and play We come together all to pray And celebrate Father and Son Christmas is the victory won
0
Nov 25, 2022
Nov 25, 2022 at 8:51 PM UTC
Christmas Victory
The days roll by one by one No sooner here than they're gone Propelled it seems by an invisible force Flashing by like a riderless horse. Never lost nor out the sun Never here but never gone Never washed nor spun around Never lifted off the ground The days roll by like clouds in the sky Slaves to the wind as they flutter and fly Driven past by the hand of time Through the midnight hour when all bells chime Never lost nor out the race Never in nor out of place Never alter nor stray off course Never falter from its source.
0
Aug 11, 2021
Aug 11, 2021 at 1:02 PM UTC
The Days Roll By
Hear the bells of Freedom sing Promise of normalcy the ringing brings Joyous people dance in the streets This Sound of Joy is what the world needs
0
Apr 12, 2021
Apr 12, 2021 at 8:42 AM UTC
Bells of Freedom
Angel form of angel bells Knell to the springtime of our love Forebear to the summer heat ensue Requite endure of somas delight Feracious profundity verdurous express The unct of skin and alls impress From angels hearth of arch and tecture I speak to you of perfecture For if this bodies embrace wrapped in skin Holds a heart that's true Then let me see form of your face And be with our love due
0
Apr 12, 2021
Apr 12, 2021 at 12:44 AM UTC
Angel bells
Bells ringing and jingling Not knowing what it's bringing Slowly descending into insanity Stop this sound, stop the inhumanity Ears bleeding Keep pleading Don't let the bells be misleading The sound is exceeding On your knees crying You'd rather be dying The sound of pain Driving you insane It shall remain Implanted in your brain ~25/3/21
0
Mar 25, 2021
Mar 25, 2021 at 9:30 AM UTC
Bells of Pain
St. Joseph's Church rang out the  Angelus this morning. You can't beat bells, So I've been told.
0
Nov 15, 2020
Nov 15, 2020 at 10:31 AM UTC
For Whom the Bell Trolls
When you sit swinging at every blink of my eyes. The dark circles under sing the setting moon lullabies. Free shadows of spring sunlight, and whispers in the corridors. ” I wish to never be alone”, says the Gardener in his mother tongue. He pulls up hope in a tin can pouring over new buds, his whistles add sweetness to my ears. that Mynah that sits under the banyan tree, sits on it today. And sparrows picking at raw berries, flutter as I near them. Wet grass pins at my feet, random flowers that mysteriously grew; falling from the paradise. Here’s to my very own forest of life & death. For I have failed many friends, those which never came back. Though I waited, and I wait. The woman in my house, with rags for clothes, dead faith that lives in the cracks of her lips. And when she walks, her bunch of keys rattle her bottle of liquor she considers hidden. Her hands that pet rotis and light stoves, escape destiny and destroy hope. Olive shaded walls of my home, frequently fall short of peace. The ringing of bells from the latest exhibit, the tv making up for all those who were once before. I raise the volume from 45 to 80, All sorts of sacred prayers surround my very being. I devour my pancakes and drain down coffee like religion itself. shattered chandeliers bring me patterns of floating aspirations. Sofa’s hold me any way I Can sit, while I forge some sleep, and fool my mind. Rested i am not. Empty i am. My walls are so high, i only feel free at the top. And sometimes think I’d like to fall. when the waters from the shore mumble to me, “don’t fall for the charades.” I stay put and cherish all the beauty. At least, that’s what I think it is. A passing wind slips from my hands, parting from every inch of my spine. I plead, “take my heart with you.” And so, my heart beats in my rib cage, But never at peace or in one place.
0
Sep 3, 2020
Sep 3, 2020 at 2:33 AM UTC
A Home in my Head.
When you sit swinging at every blink of my eyes. The dark circles under sing the setting moon lullabies. Free shadows of spring sunlight, and whispers in the corridors. ” I wish to never be alone”, says the Gardener in his mother tongue. He pulls up hope in a tin can pouring over new buds, his whistles add sweetness to my ears. that Mynah that sits under the banyan tree, sits on it today. And sparrows picking at raw berries, flutter as I near them. Wet grass pins at my feet, random flowers that mysteriously grew; falling from the paradise. Here’s to my very own forest of life & death. For I have failed many friends, those which never came back. Though I waited, and I wait. The woman in my house, with rags for clothes, dead faith that lives in the cracks of her lips. And when she walks, her bunch of keys rattle her bottle of liquor she considers hidden. Her hands that pet rotis and light stoves, escape destiny and destroy hope. Olive shaded walls of my home, frequently fall short of peace. The ringing of bells from the latest exhibit, the tv making up for all those who were once before. I raise the volume from 45 to 80, All sorts of sacred prayers surround my very being. I devour my pancakes and drain down coffee like religion itself. shattered chandeliers bring me patterns of floating aspirations. Sofa’s hold me any way I Can sit, while I forge some sleep, and fool my mind. Rested i am not. Empty i am. My walls are so high, i only feel free at the top. And sometimes think I’d like to fall. when the waters from the shore mumble to me, “don’t fall for the charades.” I stay put and cherish all the beauty. At least, that’s what I think it is. A passing wind slips from my hands, parting from every inch of my spine. I plead, “take my heart with you.” And so, my heart beats in my rib cage, But never at peace or in one place.
Continue reading...
32
I was born a poet forever-be before I realized I was sneaking behind plastered brick walls at recess bells transforming the world into words spilling ink pens dry I was born a poet I embraced beauty, enfolded magic, encased the man on the moon, tracing bare sentences amidst pure wonder until their final moments till they cried the truths of neverland upon the immense star clusters I am a poet
0
May 13, 2020
May 13, 2020 at 9:51 PM UTC
Born a Poet
bells shaking free dew hymns praise an awakening symbol of rebirth
0
Apr 8, 2020
Apr 8, 2020 at 6:01 PM UTC
bells shaking free dew [haiku]
Christmas used to be So much planning, for me Piles of presents under the tree Singing carols by the piano with glee Excitement months too early Now, as I come home for the day Too tired to even consider to play Happy just listening for the bells of the sleigh We’ll light the fire, and beside it we’ll lay Together tonight, despite hearts far away
0
Dec 24, 2019
Dec 24, 2019 at 9:34 PM UTC
this year
Bells chime. The world is a pale imposter of itself, gray in the moonlight, but not indifferent. Coy perhaps, complicit. In league with me, perhaps. The paper birch trees shuffle aside, in line like ghostly sentinels, and the briars curl back in black swarthy masses to clear a path, mumbling a song in their old forgotten language, each leaning toward me, toward my house, pointing the way. A faint glimmer, light ahead, yes, the warm glow of firelight beneath the moss and stone of the highland hills. Distant laughter, the ***** of glasses and bell chimes. The susurrations of the nighttime grasses whisper in time with the tunes of my fiddlers; they know the songs of my blood, my bones. Come to my house in the hills – yes, you must come! We will dance as the swallows do, as the daisies do when the winds blow, and watch the walls and faces blur into one another as we spin round and round, swapping faces, swapping bodies. The other guests wear garments of wanderlust and daring, and their dance is one of flame and dust. Come! Dance within my house, between walls of polished ivory and a ceiling studded with pearls and diamonds and the teeth of extinct animals. Come! We are free here: free to forget, free to deny. Free, at last, to revel in the revelry and be as unwise as it pleases us to be. Here is a place where wisdom is useless and none will accuse you of sensible conduct. And after, when the sunlight tosses me back into the ocean and hauls you out dream of me.
0
Nov 26, 2019
Nov 26, 2019 at 8:32 PM UTC
The Summons [draft]
Bells chime. The world is a pale imposter of itself, gray in the moonlight, but not indifferent. Coy perhaps, complicit. In league with me, perhaps. The paper birch trees shuffle aside, in line like ghostly sentinels, and the briars curl back in black swarthy masses to clear a path, mumbling a song in their old forgotten language, each leaning toward me, toward my house, pointing the way. A faint glimmer, light ahead, yes, the warm glow of firelight beneath the moss and stone of the highland hills. Distant laughter, the ***** of glasses and bell chimes. The susurrations of the nighttime grasses whisper in time with the tunes of my fiddlers; they know the songs of my blood, my bones. Come to my house in the hills – yes, you must come! We will dance as the swallows do, as the daisies do when the winds blow, and watch the walls and faces blur into one another as we spin round and round, swapping faces, swapping bodies. The other guests wear garments of wanderlust and daring, and their dance is one of flame and dust. Come! Dance within my house, between walls of polished ivory and a ceiling studded with pearls and diamonds and the teeth of extinct animals. Come! We are free here: free to forget, free to deny. Free, at last, to revel in the revelry and be as unwise as it pleases us to be. Here is a place where wisdom is useless and none will accuse you of sensible conduct. And after, when the sunlight tosses me back into the ocean and hauls you out dream of me.
Continue reading...
47