Mythical Bird, show me your secret
Hatch forth from your shell
Plumage of orange and scarlet
Emerge glorious from whence you dwell

Fiery Bird, you must reveal
Your astounding, magical ways
Where from these lives you steal
Forever reincarnating well into your days

Aflamed Bird, you must teach
How you reinvent yourself anew
With no help within reach
Without aid, effortlessly you flew

Majestic Bird, take me in
Blanket me with your wing
Listen and acknowledge my sins
With all your wisdom and heart could bring

Magical Bird, will you impart?
What knowledge you keep
Only then, I may start
To make my way out from the deep

Enchanted Bird, you have to help
I'm desperate to rise like you
**** your head and hear my yelps
Of all the things I'm trying to undo

Celestial Bird, if only you could know
Intricate workings of this unfounded fixation
Why I seem to always wallow
An eternal target of sorrow's attention

Imaginary Bird, will you demonstrate
Your amazing fantastical flight
Dipping, gliding, in the air you gyrate
Aggressive dance with gravity you fight

Mystical Bird, won't you display
For unworthy eyes, would you give?
Seemingly easy, aloft you stay
Even when you know you'd die before you'd live

Wondrous Bird, oh how perfect you are
I am in awe, I am swooning
How you become one with the stars
Making the best of the short time you're living

Secretive Bird, is it time?
Reducing yourself down to ashes
Ready to absolve your stint of crimes
Reborn perfect, free from previous gashes

Ensorcelled Bird, please don't retreat
Back into your familiar cocoon
I'm uncertain if again we'd meet
Just afraid I might be gone too soon

―Go Forth
Flourish in The Light
Of The
Estival Sol,
Elysium of the Soul,
Once you have vanquished
The Stygian,
Your Soul
Awaits You―


~I bid you
Immortal Heartsease
And
Armistice of Ataraxia:
The Reverberation of our Souls
In the Key of Elysium~.





I. Archean Prelude

The echoes
of your
Memories of
The Light & Airwaves
Pine to
Bloom in Reminiscence
Over the
Days of Yore.


II. The Echoes of Existentiality

We are all atomic particles;
Molecular Particles,
Of an aromatic
Omniscient,
Omnipotent,
Omnipresent Mist:
The Cosmo-Plexus of Empyreal Love

―Echo forth comrades―

~Evanesce,
Into the Empyrean,
Etherealized Lightscape
Until the
Visage of Creation
Enskies us
To the exalted
El Dorado~



II. Tempus Fugit

The Promise
Of the
Morrow
Is nigh:

The Yesteryears
Wax
Distant Ages,
Wax
Archean Aeons;

(Eventuality of Existence)

Our Bygone Days
Of Lovelit, Loveless Life,
Antiquate and
Our Soulwaves
Wax
The Spirit of
The Ancient of Days.


III. Nova Cosmogony

Betwixt the Realms
Of the
Beneficent Matriarch Mirror,
Beyond
Terraqueous Gaia
Unfurls the Vista,
Your Fulgurant Dreamscape:

Only the Sapient of Sages
Doth denude:

The Incorporeal Incarnation
Of
Virtue, it’s vesture,
Na’phesh

The Decrepitude of Withering
Dovens the Divine
In the
Vestibule of Vanity,
Sanctimony & Superciliousness
Thence deliquesce;
Bearing womb of Light.

IV. Celestial Morphology

Unveiling the Substance
Of Space and Time;
Spirit and Soul;
Euphony, Harmony;
Atrophy, Intrepidity
All are Entity

Once
Pristine yet vacuous,
Flourishing into
Mystical and shimmering
Nothingness, gropes
For Meta-Astral ―form;

Ventus Divinitas,
The Cosmogonist’s Agenda
Resonates
Through the
Inchoative Universe.

V. The Temporal Hither:

Her Genesis
Waxeth
Vestal Vicissitudes:

She is
The Twilit Quiver
Uprising in
Darts of the Dawn,

Until
Arrows of Antemeridian
Light Cascade
Our epidermis
With the incendiary
Sovereignty of Sol.

Dusk:
Chars the Canvas
Of Ethereal Skies,
Garnetiferous,
Moonlit, Martyred Mind’s Sky;
The Eve’s Imperator
And
Inquisitive Spirit Eyes.

By Luminaries
We’re ensorcelled
Corpulent with thought.

~Wondering upon,
Vacuous a fathomed
Cosmogenesis. ~



VI. Tempus et Spatium:


~There are
Edicts unseen
The Esoteric of the Macrocosm

Only the
Transcendent of Tellurians
May tell of
The Life-Rending,
Sunder forth:

Semantics in Constellations;
Gaian Whispers of Sylvan Tale
The Arboreal Wisdom,
Musicality in Zephyrs ruffling Trees of Vale
Hearken unto further
The Winged-Symphonic Bees
(The Bombinating Orchestra)
Soul Untethered = [ Meta-Consciousness ^ Spiritus de Liberty]

Einstein’s General Relativity= [Spatium ^ Matter ↔ Energy ^ Motion]

~

(Time & Space
The height,
The width,
The depth,
And
The breadth)
The Empyrean One
Enshrined in Pantheon
Our Virginal, Vestal Souls
Efflorescent Eternity
In our hearts?
(Ecclesiastes 3:11)

Time is fickle
A
Hydrean Leviathan:

Whilst ye
Voyage her
Seven Seas,
Moor naught
In her
Elapsed chronology;
Her caprice
And ire
Shalt not
Be quelled.

Be roused
From
Somnus,
Unto her
Perpetuity of
Aqueous Abyssal, Dream Deep Sea;
Tenuous,
Diaphanous,
Rare,
Tender,
Instinctive,

∞ Her Moments ∞
∞ Extinguished ∞
∞ At Birth. ∞

∞ Eternally, ∞
∞ Reincarnated; ∞
∞Anew.∞

∞The Cosmic Spectrum∞
∞Is Infinite∞

∞Excelsior, Godspeed∞

∞ Elo’him ∞





VII. Ultima Thule:

We
Empyrean souls,
Doth abide
In
Pearlescent raiment.

The Cosmogenesis is our Dreamscape:
.
We are all a cosmos,
Expanding, contracting;
Ebbing, flowing;
Hitherto and thitherto;
Red-Shift and Blue-Shift.

Until the Mellifluous Morn,
Whence the
Zephyr of Life
Reverberates the Musicality
Of The
Arboreal Sages.

Terraqueous Gaia
Whispers
The Hope of the Ages.
Spirits betwixt
Greater Eden and She’ol.

Count the stars,
Enumerate every
Constellation in The Cosmos
Of your Soulscape scintillating
Upon thine Mind’s Sky.

Whence Luna and Sol
By the Wisdom
Of your starlight.
Are benighted, beseech
The Ancient of Days

For within The Supernal Wavelength
Of the Hallowed Dove.
We glean refuge
Our Aegis,
Providence.

Awaiting the
Golden, incendiary pinions
Of the
Revenant Phoenix to resurrect us.
Allow the Holy Spirit
to be your Polaris,
― to Elysium.

~By Agape’s Armistice:
Ascend,
The Peaks of Heartsease.
Commune with the Cosmos,
Wax
Salvera y Jiustizia
Brethren,
I plead.~”


~This Sacred Lotus seed
Was sown
Into the
Into the Soil of your Souls
, ―By the Astral.

You are a melody,
Sung by
A coloratura,
Burst into a
Tapestry of Fioritura:

Of Hope,
Faith,
And
Love



(May you
Reap
The Virtues of the Lord)

Betwixt

Na’phesh,
(The [Your] Living Soul)

&

Kos’Mos’
(The World)

The Apotheosis of the Astral Flame
Awaits
You
Starry-Eyed
Phantasmagoreans~

the Nephelaen mediatrix sings
fating an ambrosia synchrony of tones

she volves her telic tepals ripe:
areoles ensorcelled under alate nomes

she heralds petrichoric quench
with nova womb
to subtend violet ray

in stellar bloom, noema web:
sensate fontanels
in spite of dessication's wrench
are concresced atmospheric balms
of evanescent nervure, calyces
displayed to sky-crossed home,
unpillared and ovoid







.

It all started in the town Warwickshire,
within Stratford-upon-Avon
a magician invented a spell
a thaumaturgy from Ovid's
magnum opus and Holinshed Chronicles
that whispered an image
of kings and battles
which turned into a game of bewitchment!

Hail the Globe Theatre
where the throng gathered
and witness the sorcery
ensorcelled by the conjurer
though spell cast into ashes
and turn dreams
into a nightmare

Yet, 'Your tale, sir, would cure deafness.'

(Let's sojourn into nightmares...)

She awakes,
To the rays of the ghostly lamp,
Conjured by thirsty thoughts,
Burning to quench...

She became prey to panic,
Fear, screams,
She was fractured,
Into shards of paints...

He; the ghost,
Was an open portal,
Ensorcelled by calls of scoundrels,
Flaming in his mind...

He growls,
Breath of fire kindles his thirst,
Tongue panting,
Ready to devour...

Wicked strokes amidst waterfall,
Melting bullets in bumpy strides,
Bursting fire on energy strings,
And ghost elopes.

Nightmares become daydreams,
In fugacious moments,
And this voyage of madness,
Ends at the shore of regrets.

#El_Magnifico™

In this “time”, this “journey”,
This experience of:  “knowing myself”,
I take time; appreciating how “I” remembered my wealth and was a king-
“- I am a king”
“I am a soul evolving after involution because my intuitions fully “well””
I said I, there was another…
Another meaning…
I credit she, that was a queen,
“She is a queen, who gave love”,
She is a soul functioning as a higher self, in a higher dimensional state,
Time reflected me, which evoked self, that then gave self-awareness of my current space, which erased, the limited concept of time,
Then came more opportunities to see my,
Many ways of thinking, that molds my many ways of seeing thyself, my personality that reflects the many physical manifestations of my inner health,
Which brought me to my inner self,
And that brought recognition in understanding the difference between the body and the mental health,
Which brought dreams where I’d journey as a different self,
Then came the understanding of life, an experience,
It’s creating a journey in the environment you’re in,
Then experiencing it to get back to happiness; again,
Look, when I speak, understand,
What you see are the many thoughts in a vibration that manifest into, “myself”,
I’m only giving you wisdom, using ancient philosophy that we all know,
Understand well being, a human’s true wealth,
This is knowledge that I’ve learned from the theory,
“As above, so below”
That’s Hermeticsm... Wait… Greek mythology in Rome?
Hermes and Mercury?
I thought the Romans burnt down the library of Alexandria and all the knowledge,
Welllll, if money is power, go to college,
But I believe it’s knowledge; experience, that builds these universities,
Just like the universe-
“Hush, you have to properly navigate them home”
Oh yeah, you gotta know the yin and yang,
It’s the same thing as As above, So below,
This is Chinese philosophy,
WAIT! ...
Wait, please tell me you see the connection between politics and society,
Countries and History,
“How” we were divided and “why” it was a mystery,
How religions are stories and philosophy, and things that gods would teach,
And it still isn’t clear that the people we praise, are what we can be if we aspire to be,
And that the experience we’re experiencing as a human species is only prophecy, because we forgot our roots, the biology, on how our thoughts assembled the body consciously,
And how to be a king, become a god, it’s all philosophy?
Its like Star Wars and Star Trek, this whole awakening slash conscious thing,
This means theory is life,
Theoretically speaking, if metaphysics and fantasy; that’s Sci-Fi , were looked at as religion; by that I mean held with faith and a grain of salt,
Again theoretically speaking, movies would be life,
Again I emphasize that theory, it is life,
So what is life?
I say life is a consciousness that creates and experience itself,
In many dimensions which is why it’s understandable we’re living many lives at once and time doesn’t exist,
We’re constantly extending ourselves, if that’s hard to conceive then perceive, just look at how many times in this poem I extended the self,
Next is the “Big Crunch”, evolution,
After “The Big Bang” which was involution,
The experience of individuality, devolution,
Which is why we focus on this illusion,
Everything existing above and below are connected,
It’s just an extension of our true self,
This type of awareness came from true love,
A queen that was ensorcelled and devalued,
The pleasures of a female are so, De-Valued,
I mean, there’s a decrease in the chakra Sacral,
A decrease in DV (Direct Voltage), there’s no balance, no DV (Disparity Vector),  which is why D&V (DcK & Vgina) ends in DV (Dark Vengeance) which leads to DV (Domestic Violence) or a decrease in DV (Daily Values) which leads to DV (Decreasing Value) which are DT, (Dark Thoughts), DV’s (Decoy Vehicles) that creates DV (Dense Vibrations), decreasing the concept of DV (Diversification Value) which is why we be DV (Disabled Vehicles), and physically manifest a DV (Dark Vision), this virtual reality where a species is DV (Divided),
DT (Define Time) because I’m convinced it’s a combination of IUDT,
(Individuals Unconscious Direct Thoughts),
It means I, You; Depicting Things, and that’s enough VD (validation), a quick C&E (Cause and Effect) on how D&V can lead to the pleasures of a female being Devalued,
But that’s another story, I learned that by observing me,
After observing she,
I just appreciated how she smiled when she was unable to see,
If there truly was a light, which enable belief,
I call it faith, others say create because she created relief,
Truly in me, so I relentlessly searched for knowledge to attain and arrange a way for her to be free because again I’m truly grateful that she,
Gave love, a true reflection that was dormant but naval to me,
I learned so that I can serve her, but that quickly turned towards others which awoke clairvoyance in me,
Jesus is what I aspire to be but there’s still this burning desire to be,
In the arms of this lady, this queen that cyphers in dreams until I wake and such love still remains to be seen,
But that’s another story, I’m inn love, I give love without expecting a thing,
It’s a way of life, which is why I’m constantly responsibly subjecting this awareness, this consciousness thing,
Because I honestly; at least modestly believe in this concomitantly,
And that previously, I am a king, and she is a queen,
I didn’t say “was” because in this “time”, this “journey”,
This experience of: “knowing myself”,
The previously conceived concept of time is no longer a thing.

A collection of poetic writings
Of questionable mastery

THE

FIRST TOME










There are many forms and styles
Of poetic expression that I am
Just beginning to be introduced to
And understand

A number were written prior to my joining the
All Poetry site and beginning my education

To me, poetry is rhyme and rhythm, but
It has form, as I have learnt.

This booklet will only allow 16 pages
Of which this is the second, so
The remaining 14 will carry a number of
Pre All Poetry, and post All Poetry
And hopefully you may perceive
An improvement









AMERICAN SUMMER

A Blackmans death, caused by police
Subsumes the brain, and reason kills
And primal animal contained, released
To the world displays their ills

Subsumes the brain, and reason kills
Property garners but scant regards
To the world displays their ills
Respect of any, is shattered shards

Property garners but scant regards
As need to possess, over rides all else
Respect of any, is shattered in shards
It’s take what you can, from any shelf

As need to possess, over rides all else
The reason for the riot is lost
Its take what you can from any shelf
The black man’s life

The reason for the riot is lost
As other feelings rule the mind
At looting time it’s free of cost
As Humanity leaves civilisation behind

As other feelings rule the mind
Mankind gone feral, no longer smart
As humanity leaves civilisation behind
A blackman’s dying, tore life apart








AGES OF MAN

A stage, they say a joke that is
A plank upon the ground
Players they say, the people is
They’ll beat you pound for pound

Their entrances and exits,
will keep unto themselves
and as for seven ages
that’s what this story tells

man begins all worm like
a kid a useless thing
poops, and pukes and whines a lot
and doesn’t earn a thing

Schoolboys next, Oh! God forbid
Why did we make this one
It must have been that point in time
When I did some stuff for fun

The lover , ah!, my ***** did melt
A poet he did try
The effect upon the mistress’s brow
Did make the eyebrow cry

The military man, so full of spit
And polish at the fore
Did play his part, with bearded kit
And veered the cannons gore

Age number six has changed the scope
To a lean and loudly man
Whose time is on the downward *****
And no longer in the van

Seven ages man will glory in
Not all we wish to recall
Love and home, and wondrous sin
As begun will finish small







Bedtime Story (Homework No 5 Pantoum

The child did love their bedtime read
With granddad sitting on the bed
The Knight & hero’s rearing steed
And in the story her childhood shed

With grandad sitting on the bed
The hero’s steed went racing past
And in the story her childhood shed
The royal queen she came at last

The hero’s steed went racing past
And stopped the dragon there and then
The royal queen she came at last
Helped herd the beast back to its pen

And stopped the dragon there and then
From having chook and pig repast
Helped herd the beast back to its pen
And granddad closed the book at last

From having chook and pig repast
The story ran down to the end
And granddad closed the book at last
The next book read, the child would lend

The story ran down to the end
No further words left to be said
The next book read the child would lend
With granddad sitting on the bed







Christmas Thought

We gather here on Christmas eve
to share part of the joy
2000 years ago this day
Mary would have a boy

that day affirmed mans place in life
the woman to her chores
and life upon this blissful earth
was governed by mans laws

years have past and times have changed
relationships are growing
of woman's emergence from the home
into the place of knowing

who knows what life would have been like
if Mary had, had a girl
would have have held his rightful place
or ended up a churl

no matter how it would have been
it is, as it is, to-day
kinds thoughts & joy to all mankind
with love on Christmas day

the feeling of love to all mankind
its stay is rather short
there is no place for thoughts like that
in a world where wars are fought

life's hard cruel lessons, shut us in
we dare not - extend or feel
until that time round Christmas eve
when we give thanks, as we pray and kneel

William Hancock penned: 20.12.82 (pre AP)


Faerie Symphony

brushing his fingers across the glistening crystals
produced a cacophony of harsh discordant notes
rebounding off the caverns walls and music thoughts did smote
Placing hands upon the crystals, calming down the thrum
fingers selecting differing lengths, did flex and start to drum
harmony like butterflies, did rise as motes in light
traversing down the caverns walls and drifting to the night
outside the valley trembled, uplifted, and it sighed
the gentle folk looked inwardly, but outwardly they cried
taking his fingers from the glistening crystals,
they died



LITTLE MISS MUFFET

Miss Muffet was a comely girl
and turned the heads of most
But wouldn't share her curds and whey
A really dreadful host

The field held an eight legged beast
Whose local name was schnider
He managed to get her curds and whey
when he went and sat beside her

It is better to share than to lose it all

Bill Hancock
07.04.2020


Fates Feast
watching his body, sink slowly into the tree
this I laughed is your, reward deserved for jilting me
laughed again, and watched his unmatched beauty fade
realised too late, the wastefulness of mistake I've made

the prince his body slowly turned, to timber light and fair
wondered sinking further in, I really thought she cared
I courted her with flowers and commented on her hair 
It seems I would have better luck, If I had spoken to the bear

Revenge the forest maiden, reeked on the prince in spades
now he was ever with her, part of the forest glade
her demands she thought were simple, leave all and live with me
and feast upon the passersby for dinner lunch and tea

the prince he was a vegan who tried to sway her round
made out greens were good for her, beat meat, by the pound
the maidens heart was broken, in tatters lay her dream
when he refused, ensorcelled him into the forest green

These days on paths less travelled, in the forest down the way
a magnificent tree stands from the rest, its beauty on display
Not many pass it anymore, as they say it's haunted still
By the soul of the forest maiden, who died lonely on the hill









Hiccup of the Mind

Have you ever tapped the keyboard
Then looked at what was written
accessing where the thoughts were stored
And found the rhyming process stricken

Panic doesn't quite occur
Between the ears, a blank
words to page no longer purr
Encyclopedic knowledge sank

leave the keyboard and the chair
a glass with ice and liquid gold
Sip and savour, ceiling stare
berate ones self and blank mind scold

From off left field, revelation comes
fingers keyboarding begins again
The words you're reading are the sum
For from out of mind, letters do rain

Bad Location

Do they consider me
I don't think so
Other wise they wouldn't
Stand where they stand

Think of what it means
to be a tree
try to imagine where 
my fingers are

The girl is standing on them
I choose this spot
For the solitude it promised
****** tourists



Macbeths Misadventure

(a parody of Bill Shakespeare’s Macbeth and the three witches brew a spell)

Macbeth whilst travelling stopped at the pub
A cauldron and three hats on the sign
Had heard from others how good was the grub
And entered with drink and a stew in mind

The cooks, three weathered crones did strive
To keep the patrons upright and live
this struggle you know was a hapless one
already knowing what went in the drum

Newt and frog and dog and bat
The first crone donned a pointed hat
Snake and adder worm and wing
The second crone donned the apron strings

Toad and venom, entrails too
The third crone added nightshade brew
Double trouble, don’t add no more
The broths near walking out the door

a steaming *** was served Macbeth
the sight of which removed his breath
The vapours turned his nose hairs green
His liver hid behind his spleen

A mouthful made his eyelids quiver
His entrails turned into a river
His mind did cartwheels in his head
Two mouthfuls and he’d be stone dead

Refusing nicely, he said had troubles
Left a tip, he paid them double
Listen not what others say
And live to see another day



The Musician

Resting her body on the chaired podium
And leaning slightly down to the left
Her fingers caressed the highly polished surface
Of the Cello

Left hand clasping the frets
And the right hand wielding the bow
She addressed the strings with a gentle wave
And made the music flow

Somber, sounds, moaned off the instrument
Quickening and they rose in tone and pitch
Wrapping around the chamber
In a haunting hugging melody

Rising, rushing, falling and softening
Harsh and hard, then silent, but wait
Hand twitches and the refrain returns
Only to die again, as the hand falls away

Returning the cello to its resting place
And the bow into its niche
Her hand runs gently over the polished timber
The caress of a lover and friend


The Book

A thing that comes in black and White
and some times in colours as well
with words and concepts, one can write
scenes and stories, in minds to dwell

it's such a simple seeming thing
two covers, some pages between
with words that have the authors ring
Fact or fiction the reader gleans

A simple start on bark or stick
or was it paint upon a wall
to carvings on stone walls and brick
waiting discovery, then tell all

today we progress further still
into the realm of digital times
where phone or tablet makes the ****
and hand held printed book declines

regardless of the current trend
hand held books are still much loved
and continue to be there to lend
for as long as man can use a pen



© a month ago, Bill Hancock











The Lizard Slithered

Crawling stealthy below the leaves
eyeing insects upon the trees
mosquito's winging with the breeze
the lizard slithered - tongue flicked free

eyeing insects upon the trees
climbing tree's to gain it's dinner
the lizard slithered - tongue flicked free
it must eat or grow much thinner

climbing tree's to gain its dinner
mosquito's high upon its list
it must eat or grow much thinner
though beetles added meaty grist

mosquito's high upon its list
the lizards belly filling fast
though beetles added meaty grist
none of its food was made to last

the lizards belly filling fast
cold air came calling in the breeze
none of its food was made to last
the lizard slithered - tongue flicked free


cm coli picture prompt lizard slithered 120 words © a month ago, Bill Hancock   rhyme










Wordsmiths Hey

Have you ever wondered of poets
And the things they do try to write
Does it take, five minutes of writing
Or four candles worth, into the night

does the theme come from somebody social
or seeps out from ones deep inner dark
or comments from words thrown out vocal
from jibes that like barbs hit their mark

the words from mind's vault, start to line up
some jumbled, some straight, others curved
with a headiness, like good wine that's supped
A poet's souls being readied to serve

After theme, then the style is selected
And if rhyme, then the rhythm as well
If the endings or rhymes not connected
It's the poets, equivalent of hell

If freestyle, I'm not sure what matters
If Haiku, it don't ring a bell
There's others I have no idea of
Is it write, to write or to sell

A poet is plagued as a wordsmith
as their thoughts, are constant, a stream
the ink on the page, like, a musicians riff
is the success, or failure of dreams




The Caretaker

astride the gentle steed of nature
the nymph did guide its sharp beak home
into the golden hued ambrosia
around the outskirts insects roamed

The summer lady adorned with flowers
kept a watchful eye on the little nymph
as she passed her special gift, her powers
to her assistants, the brownie, pixie and slyth

The brownie ran through the Forrest floor
her touch bringing the summer buds to bloom
knocking on the animals doors
their seed collection, a promised boon

the pixie sprang from branch and flower
spreading colour of many a hue
For such was the summer ladies power
and she touched and shared where it was due

the slyth began her eternal sigh
lifting the new seed into the air
to get it planted, before the cry
the Queen of winter, it's now her care

the four continued their epic task
for none of the seasons last for long
The plants only had so long to bask
As autumn commenced to croon its song

the seasons play their role in nature
not one does stand alone
each one portrays a different stature
if one fails, nothing grown

Contest PIC;Pixie astride hummingbird lady looking on
© 3 months ago, Bill Hancock



New Australian

They came into Australia
from places far and wide
where the system failed you
no further place to hide

sailed into, the North Head Bay
Quarantine, into they go
diseases of, they must be clean
The Physicers, make them so

Not all the migrants, survived the race
the souls, of expired bodies left
rooms and tunnels, claimed in place
which overtime, the live have left

Company, comes scarce these days
from haunting tourists, as they tread
the dark and errie, passageways
of the station, on north head


The quarantine station in SYDNEY Australia and New South Wales, was located on the bay inside the Northern Headland of the entrance into the Harbour

Immigrants (who became the New Australians) came with TB, Cholera Typhoid and the other known diseases of the late 1800 to early 1900's

The migrants had to spend time at the station until they showed to be symptom free. Sadly not all made it, and it is said that their souls / Spirits still occupy the tunnels, rooms and cottages of the old Quarantine  station to this present day - Ghost hunters regularly quest in there. It is also a tourist spot. © 12 minutes ago

Betwixt bewitched and ensorcelled
Exists the Valley of Folly
In the liminal space
Where ignorance and curiosity
Frolic with mystery

Neath the veil of insignificant things
The augur wrought resounding strings
All twisting in entrancement
The timeless and enchanted

Where the mind wanders
Into deepness, blind
A light which yonder shines
The pendant looming, beckons

All reckoning and fierce conjecture
Vibrate amongst the cords of ought
The sweetest drip, ambrosial nectar
Golden softness shines thru nought

To tempt the mind, the heart doth sing
In confluence with eldest things
In synergy with intricacy
Simplicity whence ripples ring

How sought is solace by the soul
When out of darkness comes the whole
Thereto embark ‘pon currents’ pull
In being One, thus feeling full

To find thyself, amusing
In humoring things ineffable
Embodying light’s effusing
Relinquishing control