Monday, September 27, 2010

An Ode Upon Imagination

I went to a writing conference last weekend (not the one that just passed but before that). The conference was phenomenal, I learned a lot a lot a lot, networked a bit, and won a contest-- with this poem! Enjoy.

An Ode upon Imagination
By Caitlin Smith

{Written upon the midnight hour
As I lay me down to rest in my bower.
Yawning, I dimmed the lights
Then words assailed me in the night!

I leapt from my bed and grabbed a pen,
Turned up the oil, then I began
On a journey of syllables, this I was bound
And here is the song I found.}

I am lost
                                           -- In a crush
                                           -- In a thought
                                           -- In a dream

I am caught
In the wonder
Of the Muses’ silken stream.

Swept—by the grandeur.
Held—by a spark.
Caught—dinna plan to
Yet in Imagining I am lost

Where glorious tale to morals are told,
  Where spark of genius begins,
  Where time—finally—has no bound,
  Where love doth ne’er end.
  Oh, Imagination, take me away
  To thy middling world.
  There twilight is eminent,
  Evening always falls.
  Existing upon the place where
  The moons shadow strikes the sun.
  There everything is great
  Everything is pure
  Every story matters
  Catch me in thy wings, oh Muse
  Bear me swiftly thither.
  Alas, Ambrosia I want no more.
  For without thy dream-wine I wither.
  But soft! What light through yonder window breaks?
  A Tyger burning bright
  In the forest of the night
  As fairies dance delight.

Yes, a fairy dances on the breeze;
She sings a song of melodies
And whispers in the wind.
  History told a thousand ways
  All dreamed to save a queen.
  Shahrazad and I,
  Sisters we two do be.
  Sweet Eleanor de Aquitaine,
  Morgan le Fay, and Nimue of the deep
  Belle and Beauty, a fairytale
  Princess may I be.
  Here we may chat, and listen, and dream
  A while in my fancied bower.
  A life more real, an interview more true
  Held at tea, by the moon’s hour.
  I find—Beauty and her Beast.
  I fly—East, forever East.
  I cry—please do not leave.
  I try to remember a dream.
  A tale as old as the clover’s leaf
  As new as Father Time;
  Cronus yawning, stretching, sleeping
  Giving me his rhyme.
  Here I am a secret sorceress,
  Here my paramours dwell,
  Here I am maid or temptress,
  A fay, an author, an El-
   lesian princess, a painter,
  A singer, a dreamer, here I be.
  “No” not heard for this is
  The very realms of possibility.

  Petal lights, I dance the dawn that dare would dash my dream.
  Here light come from the stars
  From hope
  From in-between.
  The cracks of life have caught much
  And here, this domain, I find
  All that’s been lost to me
  Hindered only by my
  A dream.
  A different dream.
  Each night, no two the same
  Each day a journey, a life, a sleep
  All true, all pure, all me
  A fate, a fancy, a fantasy
  My life in every hue.
  Imagined, dreamed, held, and safe
  In the hands of you.
  So now I lay me down to sleep
  Imagination! Take wing!
  For here the moon rules,
  The sun is gone,
  I live just to dream.

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