drink said the drunk

I hear echos familiar Anna ... In the silence you painted sound for me drunken master lol might have to get pissed and see what i write should be interesting ... loved this it is just another aspect of you that amazes me i would be surprised if i could write a word let alone have a cohesive thought pmsl ... loved it you wonderful woman ... love and higgest bugs Jayne x x

Incredibly clever, loved no-1, loved no-2, loved no-3. Lol. Pissed as a fart, singing in the heart, Hung over. That's the way it seems. Ha. Very clever. Put a smile on my face. Thank u love Lyz.XX.

Yes, I can see how they all belong together. These are my favorite lines of all three: strong willing hands around swan-like neck, the heart of a poet, willing to die by his or her own hand as pen is put to paper. Always, Cat

Are you being modest Anna with the Tudor peak instead of Venus? If so you need not be, for you are a star among us, that shines the brightest, gives us light and doing so encourages us to more than we expect of ourselves. Kind in comment to us ordinary poets, you shine for us, we love you. Your strange tales woven in the skies of myths yet down-to-earth at the same time. You fascinate our minds with the stuff of Shakespearean drama up-to-date and modern yet not, as you dream on, capturing the songs heard wafting from the universe on the solar winds taking our minds unawares into the magic realms of poetry. Your sister in crime Ann of Norway

I think the three are perfect together. my fave part is definitely without a doubt this part, we are solitary dancers suspended by a gossamer thread blind the eye that cannot see roots deep in a pound of flesh ravenous with the tongue that fears to taste, forbids the heart to sing.... this is lovely my dear I cannot say it enough. you know how I love body parts lol. yours truly -diatom shells

Last time I read a trilogy was Issac Asimofs books about the universe and the life out there and as usual the wars continuing till infinity, I like to say that yours has passed his station. Well written and all three held together if only by numbers, but held all the same, Yours with much Thought, Ian.T

God Anna, I wonder if we have known each other, even been twins, in a former life, your writing (don't think me so crude as to assume I am in the same league, I have much to learn before I even aproach the calibre you easily wield with feathered pen), is so incredibly familiar. It often holds words & terms I have used myself in the past or recently. I have used some of these very same terms recently, & I assure you completely by fluke, since I have only just read this work, (but it has happened with you before) I used the same term of "language of the heart" in a poem only aweek or so ago, but I don't think I posted it here. Even your image here, so patrticularly dear to my heart, both dendelions & clouds of course... How could I not just melt in awe & admiration whenever I read anything from you, so much of what you write feels so familiar, I swear we have some parallel sense of life, only you are more gifted in describing it in poetic terms, skills that I so aspire to & you pour them here on this screen effortlessly Anna. Beautiful to see you here in spotlight, & so much gorgeous wonder here in your poem, I want to swim in it dear Anna, to read you is always a delight. Cheers Anni~ "Making the decision to have a child is momentous. It is to decide forever to have your heart go walking around outside your body". ~Elizabeth Stone

Loved this ...a great write

I didn't know poetry could say things so honest, personal and even turn ugly to beautififul. Is that a good thing? You astound me and I would love to meet someone who can write like this, but I am a single mum in Australia so we may never meet in person, thank you you so much for this, I hated poetry at school and thought it was either incomprehensible or silly. I write silly stuff about my beautiful cats but you give me courage. meow

drink, sayeth the drunk; ' tis how i alight on gossamer wings unseen, so to witness the Queen while she dances trances 'round the trunk; makes me wonder what fevered love doth write yon spell... must endless ink from endless well be, me thinks. do tell!