The Magic Cottage

[Keith]

Lodged between the humps,
Camel carried not spilling a drop
I gulped and gasped for freshness
following ley-lines with hedge row rabbits.

The candles have been stealing light
with knowledge of how short a life can be
when wrinkles pool before they run.

Imagine then on sun-baked stone
climbing high inside the rose,
thatched for a welcome nest,
wattle daubs warmth
south facing over its step.

In this place there is light enough
for all creatures to turn their faces.
In this place there is enough.

[Merrikay]

I sincerely apoligize, I misread, and simply skimmed the piece, and my poetry-addled brain just pick out sounds.
I hope you'll forggive, my carelessness.

[Tiger the Lion]

Lodged between the humps,
Camel carried not spilling a drop
I gulped and gasped for freshness
searching for lay lines with blind rabbits.

The candles have been stealing light
with knowledge of how short a life can be
when wrinkles pool before they run.

Imagine then on sun-baked stone
climbing high inside the rose,
thatched for a welcome nest,
wattle daubs warmth
south facing over its step.

In this place there is light enough
for all creatures to turn their faces.
In this place there is enough.

Thanks for the wonderful read Keith. Glad this is in miscel so I don't need to say much other than I loved it.
Strophe 2 is gut-wrenching - you may want to slow it down with some commas, purely to give the reader time to breath it in. The last strophe is wonderfully crafted. So difficult to end lines without little dangling words. Well done.
Paul

[Keith]

I sincerely apoligize, I misread, and simply skimmed the piece, and my poetry-addled brain just pick out sounds.
I hope you'll forggive, my carelessness.

Hi QC, not sure what there is to forgive, thank you for reading, sorry I was so long getting back. Keith

---

Lodged between the humps,
Camel carried not spilling a drop
I gulped and gasped for freshness
searching for lay lines with blind rabbits.

The candles have been stealing light
with knowledge of how short a life can be
when wrinkles pool before they run.

Imagine then on sun-baked stone
climbing high inside the rose,
thatched for a welcome nest,
wattle daubs warmth
south facing over its step.

In this place there is light enough
for all creatures to turn their faces.
In this place there is enough.

Thanks for the wonderful read Keith. Glad this is in miscel so I don't need to say much other than I loved it.
Strophe 2 is gut-wrenching - you may want to slow it down with some commas, purely to give the reader time to breath it in. The last strophe is wonderfully crafted. So difficult to end lines without little dangling words. Well done.
Paul

Thank you for the kind words and good advice, I will take a look at the punctuation , sorry so late. Best Keith