
Footprints in smoke trace an echo of longing,
Ghosts on a Temple floor paved black and white
Waltzing in silence through deep drifting Roses;
Memories dance in the Garden tonight.
The Tower looks on with its ever-blind windows
Whispering fantasies wander the Halls
Naked and caged there a Lover lies bleeding,
Beauty enchanted and chained in its Walls.
Hung from the bridge that could lead to salvation,
Under the Moon with a Star in his Eye,
Flashes the Blade that will bring him to freedom
Holding the gaze that will teach him to Fly.
The Castle lies silent, the wind mourns the laughter,
The Pool now reflects but a summer in flames
Yet under the hill where the Sun guards a Shadow
A shimmering waterfall whispers their Names.



























A lovely poem that definitely suits its title.
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Thanks, Robbie.
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This makes me think of Dylan (aka Robert Allen Zimmerman).
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Thanks, Ken… that is not something I would have thought to read. Not complaining though 😉
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Wow !
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🙂
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“memories dance in the garden tonight”–full of evocative images, but that’s my favorite. (K)
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Thanks, Kerfe 🙂
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