Her Circus of Incalculable Dreams   4 comments

Her Circus of Incalculable Dreams

She was the guardian of the seasons in between
A sylphlike figure of silent flowing grace
Bound within the time and space of strand
Marigolds grew in the margins of her dreams

With eyes sweet flowing in vibrant watercolours
She had danced upon a dandelion moon
And when drawn into the monotony of waiting
She had bid farewell to the god of seasons

Starting on each seventh moon of seventh year
From fragrant heartwood buried deep within
Her soul would carve a cleansing circumstance
So the seasons in between could take their form

In reflections lost within the devils morning
She had cast aside the vanity of Vertumnus’ sin
And in her circus of incalculable dreams
Commenced the decoration of the seasons new


4 responses to “Her Circus of Incalculable Dreams

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  1. Love the line “Marigolds grew in the margins of her dreams.”

    • Thank you so much Maggie … Tony

      • I also listened to “Who is That Man?” and enjoyed it very much. The music was great. Thank you for following my blog. I just followed yours, as I think it’s fascinating. I look forward to exploring it more. I love to write, and the villanelle is probably my favorite form. You’ll find a lot of villanelles on my blog. Let’s keep in touch. Poets who write in form are not too plentiful, I’m afraid.

      • Thank you Maggie – I do tend to write a bit all over the place but it is so true that a lot of poets do not write in form. I look forward to reading more of your work as well. Tony

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