The vision rose

The vision rose, reflected depths
of image, tone and shape,
and shook the dust of daylight
from disbelieving mind.
In watered, deep evolving,
he knew her for his own,
the anima in ghostly form,
seduced him far beyond.
As thought drew certainty aboard,
belief raised sails and fled,
and She who pulled him closer,
did whisper dreams of death.
The rippled, liquid dreaming
in which she held her course,
would carry him to distant shores;
emotion birthed at last.

http://margoroby.wordpress.com/2012/09/25/mirror-mirror-tuesday-tryouts/#respond

About rosross

Editor, writer, poet.
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