Spælingar: fljóða-ljóð

sunnudagur, nóvember 23, 2008

fljóða-ljóð

The story of the quiet queen
so neatly there
up on her throne
carelessly gracing her state
a wonderful stare
a sometimes dreamy glance
to the left

ever-present without a single demand
the quiet queen -no king insight
in a land full of promise
wet, fertile grounds
shimmering, green grass

but the caves
crowded with red dragons
thick claws, sharp teeth, firing tongues
hungry for royals

she´s the daughter of every direction known
resting in the shadow of a tree
eyes half-closed
invisible dreams hovering round her
heavenly crowned head
reflected in big stones and in gold of course

and in gold
of course
wearing one dress upon another
multi-layered

e. Lady Rockwell

1 Comments:

Anonymous Nafnlaus said...

afhverju hvarf kommentið mitt!?

fallegt ljóoð

11:18 f.h.  

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