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And there she stood, and there she stood
the girl with the golden hair
and right now, right now, she is inviting me to stare
and if staring was no good, no good, imagination was the food
and the beauty was complete, was complete and the spirit would alude
she beckoned me over, me over, to examine just how rude, how rude
and the clash of energy of love, of love
and the metamorphous of her form to the holy dove
white, white, virginal and free
and the saliva, the saliva on my lips, did pay in homage to thee, to thee
and there she stood, there she stood
the girl with the golden hair
golden fleece of ringlets and curls do be, do be and fair
cast in white and the arms broken off, somewhere over there, over there
and the classic beauty and form and forlorn and more forlorn
and the celebration of the normal and the norm
do pass through the eye, the eye of the storm
energy focused and reflected back on thee, on thee
do signify the the girl is on your knee, your knee
Georges

So, watcha sayin' George, is that you've embraced your Anima - and she's 'armless?

I like it.

~Makera

Hi George

An observation on my part leads me to state that many of your poems commence with "and.........."

and many lines start with "and............"

This leads me to suggest that you could link your poems into a sort of odyssey or one great epic
It would be interesting to see how you could order some of them and put them into 'chapters'

I'm not asking that you do this but it would be interesting to contemplate it.
I'm very good at contemplating..it's what follows that is the difficult bit

Take care
Pete

Thanks, Pete and makera for your comments.
Pete, I like the word and................as you pointed out, it can be added to
Best Regards..............Georges

Hello George. I read this and the image of Botticelli's 'Birth of Venus' came to mind. The hair and skin tones awoke a memory. Thanks for your words. Byron.

Byron, BINGO.
I hope you liked my little homage.
Georges

But in Botticelli's painting of Venus, she has arms. I was picturing the armless statue.... we must fuse the two then.

~Makera

Thought patterns, forms and association, the poet's palate.
Georges

Makera. You fuse if you want to. I was simply giving George an image from my mind, which his words had evoked. The painting itself is a piece of artistic imagery, whether the subject has arms or no. Please refrain from highjacking my 'muse of fire.'
Its my dream and I'll be damned if someone wants to impinge on its resonance inside my poor demented mind. Except for George and Albert of course. Oh, and Pete, and perhaps Matron. Bugger....I've forgotten to take my pills again........

Please forgive me, Byron...
"Impinge" on your your musings? Who me, how could I?
I was being quite 'armless, really!

~ Makera

Tee-hee ~ Makera

I'm sic ( ! ) and tyred ( too much Christmas pud ) of the abuse of the muse I infused into George's bootifull blues and hues of Venooos and hair tresses without dresses in pearls and shells created to expose lovely girls hiding her tummy and belly in rather poor form done by Botty Chellie before we had Telly and CD's to burn at this year's turn as we yearn for the firm and the tight of our nether wear to enhance what we cannot declare in mixed company and friends to make no amends for our choices of words to express our imaginary turds when refering to the lame and the truly sick who George calls Hairy Tick.
The Management accepts hardly any responsibility for the voluntary offerings presented for your delictation within the four corners of your Screeeeeeeeennnnn!!!!!!!!!!!!!

The current posting was taken at the dictation of Albert, whilst swinging by one leg from the discarded glass box recently vacated by a visitor to London's Riverside area. Albert wishes it to be known that he is now available for Masonic/Birthday/Wedding/Christening/Funeral/Circumspect (nearly had you there!) Celebrations, providing that copious quantities of cool, clear honey are available for his predeliction and languid quaffing of said honey.

All requests to be written in letters and posted to Albert Honeyslurper, c/o Matron Spreadeasy, Department For Research Into The effects of This message has been classified as spam and will be deleted by the moderators With Honey, Middlesex Hospital, Sussex, Southern Anglo-Saxon Shire, Doomsday Province, Pratts Bottom, UK.

"Bears Of The World Unite, You Have Nothing To Lose But Your




Pause"
for reflection at this juncture as we remember those less fortunate than Albert who are left to struggle bearfully against the tides of oppression which daily inflict their sad, mundane existence without any recourse to Honey. There but for the jar of honey, go you or Me, me, me, me!!!!


Now that Christmas is over I want to wish you all a peaceful and contented New Year. I'll be trying to adhere to a lovely and easy mantra as part of my new year's resolutions. Some of you will be lucky enough to know it and use it already. WWJS?

Byron 'sends his regards.'

Dear George

That little triangular patch of real estate has cost me a lot over the years?


Ben

Indeed, Mr Kelly.............and it will cost you a lot more.....
Georges