Welcome, dear friends!
This week’s poem explores the mystery and transformative beauty of true love, beginning with the notion of a fevered dream.
For those of you who appreciate Celtic mythology, you will note the allusions to the primordial swan goddess, Cáer Ibormeith.
Feel free to Google her, if your inner-academic so desires… a wonderful story. It will help thicken the poetic stew for you, too. I promise.
Absent that homework assignment, I truly believe this poem stands well on its own. I found myself haunted by it for days after writing it… returning to re-read its almost faerie-tale romance.
For those of you who write… it’s that sense of detachment from your own words where you ask yourself later, “Huh… I wrote that?”
Please let me know your thoughts and feelings in the Comments section below. Love to hear from you!
-PS Conway ☘ ☘ ☘
☘ ☘ ☘ ☘ ☘
a fevered dream
a fevered dream besets me so
that all my waking thoughts succumb
to slumber’s soft sweet gentle tow
to follow Cáer’s angelic hum
follow her call to the lakeside
where cygnets feed me yew berries
i am poisoned yet have not died
i am spirit ‘mongst the faeries
i am edacious for her favor
i am transformation inspired
in her feathered embrace i savor
i am everything desired
chain me to her silver necklace
for i am hers and hers alone
purposeful no longer feckless
crossed o’er the Veil both heart and soul
into a Samhain night sky sloe
we take to flight our swansong fair
a fevered dream left far below
on true love’s wing
shan’t i despair