Fairy Dust

A few wires –

a leap from reality –

and Peter Pan took flight

through fairy dust

in front of us

on an ordinary weekday night.

And glitter

shone in the eyes of the child

sat there all evening

stock still – grinning –

finger in mouth –

catching his breath and believing

every tick

of the crocodile’s tock-clock,

and each brave sword blow,

walking the plank –

taking the plunge –

without ever needing to slow.

Peter Pan

And I ask

myself why the magic is

sham and corrupt,

in failing to

 ward off those

pirates of old –  our growing up?

(Degrassi Wiki Gif in Public Domain)

Fear

 

I slid through the gap and into a spiraling whirlpool,

landed inside the gray with a nauseous splash.

Trees stood stripped of dignity, shuddering in the twilight

of winter, naked but broiling with torturous stakes.

Eerie

As branches drowned in the wake of death their fingers pointed

through ripples pungent with sulfur and blue, bruised blood.

Shock took captive my slipping heart, which spluttered against the

ominous fog creeping in to steal my good eye.

 

The Mystica

untitled

The Mystica

In solitary non-compliant places

the Mystica rise

against the gravitational tug of nature

thwarting mortal will.

Gnarly limbs that grasp into consciousness

press the rub of time.

Their fingers grapple the swollen currents –

blasted and empty –

swimming away from treacherous  sandbanks,

unchecked by any tide.

A mysterious spell-binding graciousness

captivates the eye

and highlights the worn skeletal echoing

of constant pressure.

Their branches lie bare of verdant feathering

yet will bloom again

as they wrestle the constant drownings that

sap land-locked spirits.

Look! Out of even dead apparitions spring

promises of fresh life.