The Dream Of Poliphio (A Fragment) Poem by Leon Moon

The lactating stars inside his heart instigated his will to write,
He fell below the bed of grass, and away, he was out of sight

Poliphio wandered with drooping eyes of clay
Alt wrinkles hardened into darkening grey,
On he glided below the Sun-Square day
Blinded by the guidance of faithful pay;
His pilgrimage of silenced red and white roses
Had led him to a glade carved by a glowing stream
Which flickered, at times, prospects of golden poses
That shone in the form of 7 masked virgins
That were lined in the divine rib-bone carvings of a dream.

The seven women lined in masks
Some emerald, some mercury, some gold and some ash;
Approached him one by one, each bestowing a lash
Of warmth, split two.
He sat down, alone, by a fountain-font
In the centre, a statue of Venus was burning,
Her thighs dipped in golden liquid, the yolk of a double-eagles egg,
Each bubble sparkled and popped into evanesce

He rose above the bed of grass, and away, he had no flight
And when he woke, he had no will to write.