Hey you, welcome to what I like to call stage two of my literary evolution. Trying to write perfection or something like that. With my magic wand and hat.
Poetry by Eclipse, an eclipse in the sky so high. Words on parchment and scripts. I heard its calling but never asked why. Why would I have asked why?
I hope you like what you see, what you read, I hope you find my poetry to be pretty, like the sequin bead of a bracelet so shiny so lemon-and-limy.
I've got a feeling there'll be a billion more, so you'll never get tired, no they'll never bore. I'll write for millennia, until this seed blooms into magnolia.
And I won't stop until I'm gone. So cherish these now before there'll be none left for me to call new. Poems that you never knew.
Poetry by a boy named Eclipse, poetry on paper, parchment scripts. Poetry read by the mind and the lips. Poetry found through your fingertips.
Read the legacy I'll leave behind one day, when my hair's like snow or stars or grey. Read them, chant them, speak them, pray. Whisper them, sing them, know them, say.
There on my shelf will be my books for you. From red to green to pink to yellow to blue. Making you feel joy, rage, melancholy and rue. Knowing that it's what I loved to do, knowing of how that was so true.
Poetry by Eclipse, let them combine to be my memorabilia. Don't let them drown in the sea like hunted fish or Ophelia. Let them be on papers still, papers of ivory and magnolia. And speak them, hum them, say them still, from England to Australia.
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