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Alexander III
07-16-2010, 05:47 PM
In the eremite woods
There is a faery

Wings, Blue, like the stream
Eyes, Blonde, like the sun
Soul, Holy, like a dream

For two thousand years
A boy has stood before her

A delicate smile
Trembling fingers
(Unconsciously longing for a mother's warmth)
Wide eyes, star glazed-
Fixed upon her
Never blinking

As if he were scared
She would vanish
If he were to blink

He mumbles an endless prayer

For two thousand years
The woods, the stream, the sun
The faery
Have been silent

Civilizations were buried into history
Time transfigured all that he had once known

Yet he remained
Praying before the faery

The woods turned to dirt
The stream froze
The sun faded into chaos

Lastly the paint was swept away
From the once life like statue
Of the Blue Faery

Hawkman
07-16-2010, 06:00 PM
Pinochio revisited then, A3. The imagery here admirably echoes Spielberg's AI. I wish I could have seen Kubrik's vision, but alas we were once again subjected to syrupy sentiment and spindly, aliens in the form of super-evolved robots. I really think the film should have ended where your poem did. Nice one. H

Alexander III
07-16-2010, 06:10 PM
Yes that was the only film I have ever seen which made me cry, a very beautiful film.

Jerrybaldy
07-16-2010, 06:21 PM
Mr Third. I read your poem following your response to mine. Guess to a degree that how things go here. loved your poem. Now think of you as a deranged Imp , in a nice way. And either left or right of centre and either way is good as long as its not that bloody middle ground.
best wishes
JB

Delta40
07-16-2010, 07:13 PM
I like the imagery you evoked here. the cool of a magic night.

Alexander III
07-17-2010, 04:44 AM
Thank you Delta and J.B, I shall take the label of a deranged imp as a compliment :)