In the crucible of my skull
a sunfish swims like a lost moon

a bruise throbs to be heard
above malign mutterings

There’s a flicker of mischief
In a nymph’s bog-green eyes

The unexplained slalom of a sleigh
rips snow off a silent roof

In the crucible of my skull
the junk of long days glows red
as it melts from trivia into story
in the Eden of my imagination

This is based on the ReadWriteWord prompt, to write a poem using many of the words in the wordle cloud above. As well as using the words I wanted to capture some of that rather magical feeling that comes when an idea suddenly starts to germinate into a poem… as happened when I started reading these words.


5 responses to “creation

  1. Hey, I’m glad you’re back. I’m wiped out tired now, almost half asleep. I’ll come back tomorrow when I can give your poem proper attention.

  2. So nice to see your post!

    Oh, I do see the creative mind at work. My favorite line in many: “a sunfish swims like a lost moon” . The coupling of the first and last stanza was terrific.

  3. What a beautiful image of a sunfish swimming like a lost moon. ‘The junk of long days grows red…” wonderful.

  4. Creative certainly comes to mind when one reads this poem. It’s fresh, vivid and exciting. Keep up the good work.

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