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Village King
there’s a corner of my deck
still boasts the sun at two o’clock
where I sit and watch the people down below
and behind them on the harbour
laden boats are cutting water
bringing curios from the land of ice and snow
I imagine I am king
with a sceptre fit to sting
believing no one doubts a single word I say
of secret stitches in the curtain
all my subjects know for certain
they’ll be anchors for the longboats in the bay
all my streets of broken mirrors
scare the village superstitious
I have bandits camping on the edge of town
through a window made of guilt
admire the treasures in the silt
and later touch the broken magic golden crown
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Comments
alidzain
Tue, 2015-02-17 20:49
Hi there!
Love the imagery in this piece.
Alid
judyanne
Fri, 2015-03-06 09:19
Simon
I love this
I have read it many times over the past few days, at times when I didn't have time to comment. The descriptive is great, I can just see you up there feeling like the lord of it all lol
Rhythm and rhyme smooth...
I enjoyed this
love judy
xxx
'Each for the joy of the working, and each, in his separate star,
shall draw the Thing as he sees It, for the God of Things as They are.'
(Rudyard Kipling)