Mirage Maiden

Mirage Maiden

A Poem by Phill Oz O'fee
"

Trick of the light/mind ...

"

Mirage Maiden



I thought I saw an apparition

Near the skyline of my soul

A translucent image beaconing

Clothed in lingerie of shining gold


Or was this optical phenomenon

Just my mindset playing tricks

Tempting beliefs of possibilities

That I knew could never exist


Desires of a blemished heart

Create odd bespoke imaginations

Fooling the head with an illusion

Of this mirage maiden figmentation


But if by chance her appearing

Is no coincidence in its nature

Perhaps I may nurture expectations

Of meeting this allusive stranger


Copyright @ Phillozofee 2018

© 2018 Phill Oz O'fee


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Featured Review

You've grabbed my muse and shook him to the core
by forcing thoughts of some unbranded smile
The prize of lies spreads all across the floor
without a touch of caution--for the while

But, even though the fragile shard is broke
with hesitation clearly holding sway.
There moves the blur of tears in which to cloak
all notions of the games at which we play

Now is it true denouement at the end
or do we hold the trolly by a thread?
We watch the sly gray fox sneak past the bend
And though the ox is gored, he is not dead

She floats in melancholy’s sweet relief,
knowing her respite will be but brief.


Posted 5 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.




Reviews

Excellent. I truly enjoyed this piece

Posted 5 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

' Desires of a blemished heart ~ Create odd bespoke imaginations .. ' Those are the hearts that bleed the most sensitive of human need.

An alluring dream, surely beckoning the man to stay in that land of reveries for hours on end! Whatever you write, your language is incredibly fine, phrasing just so but - never so constrained as to make mock of the emotions.

Posted 5 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

You've grabbed my muse and shook him to the core
by forcing thoughts of some unbranded smile
The prize of lies spreads all across the floor
without a touch of caution--for the while

But, even though the fragile shard is broke
with hesitation clearly holding sway.
There moves the blur of tears in which to cloak
all notions of the games at which we play

Now is it true denouement at the end
or do we hold the trolly by a thread?
We watch the sly gray fox sneak past the bend
And though the ox is gored, he is not dead

She floats in melancholy’s sweet relief,
knowing her respite will be but brief.


Posted 5 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

Very creative, I enjoyed reading this poem. It read like you have just described a dream.

Posted 5 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

I like the picture and the words which go with it

Was she real or just a figment of your imagination - a dream

Posted 5 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.


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6 Reviews
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Added on August 30, 2018
Last Updated on August 30, 2018

Author

Phill Oz O'fee
Phill Oz O'fee

Winchester, Hampshire, England, United Kingdom



About
I am caught in a time spiral of confusion; that period we all experience between birth and death. Somewhere inside hides a poet, writer, lyricist and/or whatever, laying dormant and suppressed by s.. more..

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