Tuesday, November 25, 2008


She has a gold hand
and a silver hand.

One holds the day star,
the other is the moon.

Light bleeds from them
in fans and barley twists

of alternating colour
spinning day to night

then flickering back again.
As though she weaves

the passage of time
through her fingers,

as though the tips of her nails
are shining crescents
on the soft cusp of dusk.


Blogger Chris Never said...

Oh now you wrote this just for me didn't you? *grin*

Someone wrote of my poetry just the other day

'you use simple language to create beautiful verse."

This reminds me of that comment so much, while the language is simple, the poem streaks across the eyes in a blaze of lovely

Of course I love it

1:02 PM  
Blogger Chris Never said...


while I was writing my comment, a picture appeared above the poem!!

My god

my magical powers are increasing daily lol

1:03 PM  
Blogger burning moon said...

lol, you dick! of course it was all your doing!

stupid picture has made my page view go all weird?????

bloody computers.

still, I really liked the picture.

Now that you mention it, the poem is sort of like one of yours. Although the idea for it sprang from the fact that I wear two rings, one a silver lord of the rings ring, and one a gold signet ring my grandmother gave me. One on each hand. I always think of them as my gold hand and my silver hand. Hence the poem. Weird eh?

1:09 PM  
Blogger Chris Never said...

What a lovely story behind the poem, I love that about writing, the things in our lives which inspire us to write wonderful things, I mean, two rings create the thought for this piece, thats fantastic to me.

The picture, which I neglected to mention, is beautiful btw,. I will pinch it for a background *grin*

1:24 PM  

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