I am short on time (surprise, surprise) and I am barely getting this up in time so I will begin with a short poem, but one that is part of a longer cycle, the rest of which will follow. Cartography I Because words are ghosts after the death of wonder and the end of awe have stopped explaining and exploring the beginning of fear. Hear, there, be dragons.
should be read with Scotty’s accent when he announces … “Admiral, there be Whales here!”
LikeLiked by 1 person
Ach….my fake Scots accent is even worse than my various fake English accents. That’s the problem when you learned all your British accents and idioms from watching Monty Python.
LikeLike
You breathed life into this! Or fire, I should say 😉
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks Nat!
LikeLike
It’s great the hear you on soundcloud. Poetry is meant to be read aloud and listened to. You have a lovely reading voice. And what a nice poem. 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you Alice–it’s nice to be heard. Even if it is with the cushion of recording between speaker and listener.
LikeLike
And it’s good to hear you.
LikeLike