A river boat floats out
to the mysterious east.
Aboard, a manage a trois,
artist, lover and husband.
They approach exotic places
slipping slowly by.
Colours, smells, strange sensations,
soak into their pores.
Seas, jungles, moons and mountains
drenched in dreams,
until, in the farthest reaches
of a green sea they arrive at an island
of such intense beauty
that they sail straight past,
so absorbed were they in contemplation.
The wife looked round,
her husband had gone,
never to be found,
while the artist disappeared
into the mirror of his own illusions.
She dived deep into an indigo ocean
to play among dolphins,
seals and other exotica
that resided there.
Close your eyes, go to that place,
its easy to imagine,
but remember, grip tight the bars
that chain your mind
or you may leave your life behind.
8 Dec 04
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There is a lot to like in this; the poem is fairly rich in detail, and there is a mystery in the three characters which I am glad is not explained.
I do, however, find the shift in voice from a purely observational to almost didactic tone in lines 25-end unsettling. It leaves an aftertaste which does nothing for the poem. I'd rather leave this poem still picturing the wife swimming alone.
Thank you for your perceptive and helpful comments which i shall consider most carefully
Larry mmmmm. Lark
enjoyed the slow ease of the journey, but also felt the shift to the moral of this story is...need to trust the reader?
Lot in what you say. Maybe the end is a bit preachy
larry i will comment l8r
in the meantime
its menage a trois