
Book Illustration of Medieval Scriptorium
tallow tapers flicker weakly
midnight manuscripts laid down
on parchments and scrolls
libraries of dim inspiration
From my book Bohemian Scents
Book Illustration of Medieval Scriptorium
tallow tapers flicker weakly
midnight manuscripts laid down
on parchments and scrolls
libraries of dim inspiration
From my book Bohemian Scents
“Melancholy” by Nancy Willis
darkness falls victim
crystal candle explosion
opulent murder
(originally posted January 2017)
Scriptorium
tallow tapers flicker weakly
midnight manuscripts laid down
on parchments and scrolls
libraries of dim inspiration
“Vintage Letter Concept” Photo by ulkan
scarred candle
weeping its wax
the sweat of a
stuttering flame
shadows flicker
cast by a jittery
fidgeting quill
on limp vellum
its capillar nib
wanting words
to draw sense from
its immanent ink
all too soon will
the morning intrude
giving chase to
the nocturnal muse
“Candle Flames in a Temple” by Konstantin Sterkhov
tallow taper
dip-moulded
emits smoky
animal scent
waxen wick
coaxes flame
to consume
the very air
ancient light
for we poets
of midnight
liquid verse
drips from
now bloodless
nibs of moult
quills as the
wax tells its
story in drops
of its own
From my books Onionskin and Legacies (vol. 2)
candles burn aromatic
glass jars emit ambient
sweet scent or savory
a far cry from the
render of tallow
in slaughtering season
the labor intensive
preparing for winter
year in and year out
first the butchering
smoking and salting
of livestock and game
then the eweries
sculleries busy with
crude household industry
chandlering tapers
and hand-milling soap
basic rustic necessities
rude self-sufficiency
marking existence alike
of the peasant and prince
so how do we now
find the gall to complain
of our mere inconvenience
of modern impatience
with trivial troubles
alleging a difficult life
Writer Lynne Sargent
Poetry Puttering by Pax & Company
Sometimes everything has to be enscribed across the heavens so you can find the one line already written inside you. Sometimes it takes a great sky to find that small, bright, and indescribable wedge of freedom in your own heart. David Whyte
"drink from the well of your self and begin again" ~charles bukowski
no dust here
Looking ahead, without looking back (too often)
flights of fancy from New Zealand
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All you touch and all you see / is all your life will ever be
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I am where the valleys are deep, the mountains are high, and the wind moans through trees...
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