When the writing is going well,
I am a prince in a desert palace,
fountains flowing in the garden.
I lean an elbow on a velvet pillow
and drink from a silver goblet,
poems like a banquet
spread before me on rugs
with rosettes the damask of blood.
But exiled
from the palace, I wander —
crawling on burning sand,
thirsting on barren dunes,
believing a heartless mirage no less true
than palms and pools of the cool oasis.
(Richard Jones)
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Based on Topics: Belief & Faith Poems, Literature Poems, Garden Poems, Silver Poems, Poetry Poems, Writing PoemsBased on Keywords: goblet, elbow, heartless, dunes, thirsting, mirage, exiled, oasis, rugs, damask, rosettes