Dryad…

A must read , beautiful poem.

Stuart France

*

…That night the world took on strange colours and my dream-girl became a tree.

If I were a Druid I would say that I had fallen under the sway of a wood nymph, a Dryad…

She is certainly very beautiful and pulls me  away from the busy road where traffic endlessly flashes through the ever screaming air…

She always wins.

I always turn from the road and allow her to take my hands in hers.

We roll down the embankment conjoined…

We roll together

for all eternity

but then collide with the bole of the tree

and she is gone.

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Stream of Consciousness Saturday. Critic(al)

This is part of LindaGHill’s #SoCs.

Our Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “critic(al).” Use it any way you’d like. Have fun!

Now it is critical that you understand that this sword held aloft here is not Excalibur. I have to say if I am critically on honest. The arm is too thick and masculine to belong to the lady of the lake. While I am being honest the sword itself looks too short and squat to be Excalibur.

Yet here we have an arm extended out of a lonely lake holding a sword aloft.

There is no magical island of Avalon, no Knights or damsels in distress. Just traffic bombing along a busy road, the other side of a wooden fence.

No just a critical Ruby sniffing around. Please don’t be a critic it might not be perfect but it was a lovely walk.

A Critical Acrostic Poem

Can you honestly say it’s the best

Rigourously, honestly the best

Is it truly the best you can do

To be honest I am not impressed

In my opinion, it is not good

Critically honest it’s not all that .

Actually be honest it’s rubbish

Look, don’t blame me, the critic.

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