Poem -
Brynhild's Dream
...for my Lorna
Not given to a long and slow decline
Amidst the fiery mountain’s living flame
The sleeping gods-child restlessly reclines
Left at the height for highest to reclaim.
Therein the flick’ring dreamlands of the girl
Who (flicker-eyed) surveys diminished grace
With tattered standards of Valhalla furled
She longs for sun and hero’s hot embrace.
The dreamt-of hoof-beats of her slumbering steed
Resound with echoes of her stolen power
Protecting flames around the mountain bleed
And draw their silken wings about her bower.
Yet with a kiss ~ possession is undone
Her eyes awake to greet the laughing sun.
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Comments
The hero's found love and he saves her...what more could a girl need !!..thank you Jason, I love this and you
your Lorna
XXX
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Mmm...I think a girl needs more...I know she certainly deserves much more!! I just hope that the hero is poetic...or the poet heroic enough...to give it to her!!
I love you too.
your Jason xxx
beautifully writtenÂ
Thank you very much.
Welcome to Cosmofunnel.
J ;)
Wow!...A lovely poem for a beautiful lady....This is breathtaking J...Enjoyed
Not nearly as breathtaking as some people I could mention!!
Thank you Rose...your support and appreciation mean the world to me, truly.
J xx
Is it love, or is it freedom that haunts her?
It's both. And each one is terrifying.
But both are mutually exclusive. If you love someone; really love someone: then you can never be truly free. And therein lies the dichotomy. A contradiction which Wagner would say can only be resolved in death...and Schopenhauer would say can only be resolved in negation.
But now I'm getting ahead of myself! This is the fifth poem of an eight-sonnet corona sequence...and I don't want to give away the ending...just yet.
Thank you.
J ;)
Beautifully written, I like the ending :)
Thank you.
J ;)
I have to agree that you have a gift. This is really good. ?
Thank you...that's very kind.
J ;)
So crafty.... I truly enjoy your dedication to square pegs in round holes and versification for the sake of honoring the language you have mastered; to deploy a point you want to make.
You doubtless have other inventions within you.... but you play with the fires at hand, and remind the dear reader that there is a custom and a frame from which we poets jettison our dire hopes and fears.. And I am very happy to be concerned with your adventures.
They mirror the world.