Poetry

[BrecciaSilentstep]

Anne of Bradford

My lady, your sweet voice and perfect grace
Can to daring feat inspire your lord.
But when he gazes at your loving face,
To him there can be no greater reward.
Even the victory that he will claim
Can at that time, be no more than his due;
For meaningless is any prize or fame
Save for the smile that he receives from you.
So look on him with love, that he may know
That yet you favour him within your heart,
And with that knowledge forward he will go
To deeds undreamed; and when he must depart
He'll return for you, his adoration,
His one true love, and his inspiration.

LHP

[Martilena]

I love these.

[BrecciaSilentstep]

For Warren

sometimes
spooned up beside you
late at night
love
overflows my heart
spills out into my self
filling me
until I can't hold it all.

it leaks out the
corners of my eyes,
puddles on the pillow,
soaks through.

I can feel it under my cheek.

I wish to stay
forever
in the circle
of your arms,

feeling your breath
on my shoulder.



LHP

[Emerauld Drathmir]

*sigh* 

Your writing is soooo dreamy!

[BrecciaSilentstep]

fragments of someone else's dreams
surround me
strewn like fallen leaves
across the table

they whisper to me with stolen voices
and murmur in tongues I do not know

their knowing eyes follow me
painted lips smile

I cannot hide from them
and I fear

their invasion of my own
fragments of dreams


LHP

[Kazzadoom]

I really like it Breccia. It brought forward a lot of thought for me.

I've always enjoyed the word Dream. It has two very common meanings of either the literal sense (dreaming in the state of sleep) and the figurative sense (dreams and aspirations).
I noticed lately that when I see the word, it more often then not comes across as the figurative form. I can only imagine this is due to all of the choices I am making about my life..

When I read this however, it came straight across to me as literal dreams. Little tidbits of stories people have told me that influence my mind during rest.

The personification really helped me picture it mentally, all that I could imagine was little aetheric creatures slowly crawling into one bundle.

[BrecciaSilentstep]

Literal dreams is what I had in mind.

I wrote this one while I was sitting at an artist's table, at a convention, here in Victoria last year. I had been aiding my photographer, who had been taking pictures of costumes, and such.

The artist in question was (and is) one of our frequent models, and she had a panel to go to, so they asked if I could be spared to watch her table while she was gone.

So I ended up sitting there for an hour or so, just me, in this large, mostly empty room with other artist's tables spread out around it, but not close enough to talk to the people. I didn't have a book with me, but I had my writing stuff. (Don't leave home without it!) So I sat there, looking at her art.. which is all based in HER created, internal world, with the art suggesting stories that I couldn't write, since they were her characters, and her situations, and her stories...

and this poem came out of it. I wrote it there, made a fair copy, and left it in her sketchbook for her to find.

[Kazzadoom]

Thank you for this Breccia.

Sometimes the reasoning behind Poems should never be explained (in my opinion).
Your story behind this poem however really brings it into a different light. Knowing how this poem came about helps understand it from your perspective. Wonderful