Snow church, a poem

And yet I choose to live here.

There are pillars in the great cathedral of Seville, each the width of three great trees standing

And the crosses are of gold

And the vaulted ceilings open their wings as albatrosses do

Over the marble seas

The prayers rise like wreaths

And yet I choose to live here

In Maharashtra the gods and goddesses clamber over walls lush with blossom

I am worshipped in a labyrinth

I am bedecked with tropical offerings, seduced with saffron, turmeric and scarlet

Fed with the finest naan

And the faithful entreat me with flowers

And yet I choose to live here

Where the snow light glows through glassless windows

Where the roof curves inward like a woman’s waist

Where the leafless trees stand brittle against a breathless sky, white as winter

Where the shadows fall icy

Where no one names me

Lord

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This is (something I rarely do, out of laziness) a poem in response to a prompt.

And since we are on the subject of fantasy, more or less, here’s a bunch of epic sci fi and fantasy books by indie authors. Take a chance and download something you fancy. I’ve downloaded Agatha’s Story, seduced by this literate and intriguing blurb…

Meet Agatha.

Agatha is different. Even she doesn’t know how different she is. Agatha has an aversion to water. She carries an oilskin umbrella under her arm. She spends her meagre savings on waterproof shoes. 

And then there are the twenty-four hour interludes. Days when she wakes up and cannot recall where she has been or what she has done.

The truth is worse than she ever imagined.

Set in an alternate London in 1793,…(read more)

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