by Roy K Austin
(Dorset England)

What an enchanted loom the brain is-
the font of all our mortal sight,
but who to the vision of a man
is weaving it all with threads of light !
Not tailor-made as most would have
to cut a cloth to fit our want,
more like a game of hide and seek
or now you see it, now you don't-
a down-turned card that might be bluffing
that everything should come from, nothing?

The stars have called us from distraction
and tuned our senses to the bone
and voila! Sunlight,satisfaction-
red admiral on cambrian stone,
but who is it inside the claustrum
that stays young as we grow older,
that knows full well eternity,
that butterfly, now on my shoulder?


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Light Sensation
by: Anna

What an amazing sensation of becoming so light to fly as a butterfly while reading you poem. Like leaving all the past behind and being so free in the present.

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