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About This Author
My name is Joy, and I love to write. Why poetry, here? Because poetry uplifts its writer, and if she is lucky enough, her readers, too. Around us, so many objects abound to write about. Once a poet starts with a smallest, most trivial object, he shall discover that his pen will spill out what is most delicate or most majestic hidden inside him. Since the classics sometimes dealt with lofty subjects with a lofty language, a person with poetry in his soul may incline to emulate that. That is understandable. Poetry does that to a person: it enlarges the soul and gives it wings. Yet, to really soar, a poet needs to take off from the ground. Kiya's gift. I love it!
Green Peas at Stake
#389478 added November 30, 2005 at 2:48pm
Restrictions: None
Each Night
With nods and knowing eyes,
the pillow takes over
the opus magnum,
as darkness kills the sounds
and the foundation under me
sags,
threatening to crumble.

On the enormous expanse
of the haunt of dreams
and fantasy worlds
with accidental variations,
where I end up stranded
on an antique kilim
in front of a magical castle
filled with dark wood,
the pillow points to
the tricky winds in spirals
narrowing to a keyhole.

At each toss and turn,
sorting through the crypts
of buried subtexts,
the pillow cuddles the dark head
against its white,
and lets this protagonist
raise a ruckus
to update her plot.


© Copyright 2005 Joy (UN: joycag at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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