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November 21, 2022
"Mes de los Muertos"

Confession of the poetical firefly to muse-butterfly of poesy

By Pawel Markiewicz

Confession of
the poetical firefly to
muse-butterfly of poesy


You must excuse me. You dear dreamer!
I have overly felt my dreamery about Golden Fleece.
I built my small paradise without any other ontological beings.
I based the dreamiest sempiternity on tenderness of my wings.
Thus. I painted my wings in color of an ambrosia.
Withal: I liked dew of dawns for the sake of elves.
I loved too much the wizardry of mayhap meek Erlkings.
I had to read many fairy tales of the Winter Queen.
I have enchanted your night rainbow.
I have become a magician of dawn.
I loved the Morning Starlet -- the propitious Venus.
I collected all shooting stars after a dreamier night.

Excuse me. My dear butterfly
fulfilled in same afterglow
and bewitched by lights of moonlit and
starlit nights!
Let us dream over night!
Unto an epiphany of first
angels of red sky in
the morning.







Article © Pawel Markiewicz. All rights reserved.
Published on 2021-01-18
Image(s) are public domain.
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