The Silk of Kings
Realitymuddies the waters
of my rest.
A reminder, yet again:
together we are
primitive woven cloth,
not the silk of kings
or dreams.
And I die another death.
8 August 1999
Photograph/Liz March
posted by Adagio at 12:20 pm
Saturday, October 14, 2006
Realitymuddies the waters
of my rest.
A reminder, yet again:
together we are
primitive woven cloth,
not the silk of kings
or dreams.
And I die another death.
8 August 1999
About Me
- Name: Adagio
- Location: Waitakere foothills, North Island, New Zealand
It's very hard peeling the layers off your own onion
Been there, done that
- Just in time
- The ridge dresses up
- Email to a friend (dreaming of summer)
- The kitchen no longer bears my signature
- 20 today!
- Sound familiar?
- Theo
- Spring, Summer, Autumn, Winter....and Spring
- All About Eve
- Without
4 Comments:
So powerful, yet so delicate. I love it.
Wistful words A.
But can't primative cloths be colourful and tough. long lasting too?
Your poem has made me wonder?
Ah, I wonder if the silk of kings is all that it is cracked up to be?! Life is full of snags and thorns and I don't think anyone who is human escapes some of them. But your poetry is lovely, and the photo shows a luxurious and elegant room - I hope it's yours. Sending you my very best thoughts!
no, not my lounge sigrid. yes, it is a great room. and house. belongs to the photographer, my good friend liz.
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