Masks within Masks ~ A Sojourn to Far Places, an Epic in several parts

Alpha Contact

The Cocktail Parties of the Furies always have
the most interesting music
And the d’cor . . .
to die for

The invited guests sashay through fantastic landscapes
Awash in the brilliant colors of Midnight
The low dull thudding of the Infrareds
the shark toothed ultra violets
They eat the most peculiar things
and are encouraged to wear very strange hats

The Magician is holding an azure drink
filled with twinkling stars
Off to his right
The Pretender glides through shadow and shade
Her gown
a whisp of gossamer
a hint of feather and down
She seldom turns to look face on
But has seen everything in the room
She seldom stops to talk at length
but had spoken to each and every person there

If you’re lucky you might catch
The grace of a hand involved in a perfect gesture
the hint of a smile
The lilt of her voice

She flows through the room like water
And congeals where the Magician converses with a werewolf
The Magician is visibly unsettled by the beautiful woman
suddenly standing before him

Published by

Chyfrin the Celtic poet

Artist, Poet, Electrical/Biomedical Engineer, Actor, Playwright, Set construction, Educator, Lover of womankind and single malt scotch

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