I’m mystery of sagas unfolded in sunsets
Nurturing bliss of passions, washing away regrets,
In search of love’s strong meaning, poetic, sacred, grand,
I’m writing back to letters penned in the river’s sand.
Catching tales on streamlet, beside Millennium bridge
Near by the Shakespeare’s Globe, a metaphoric ridge,
Where poets are for hire, condensing wise advice,
Converting life’s desires in twilight’s paradise.
Where moon is drinking coffee with stars beneath the blue
Twisting the tales of wonder and nazar’s spelling hue,
To hopes, and dreams, and joy, drawing the future’s sketch
Aligning Thames’ old stories for bounding present’s pledge.

Alas, is time to wonder, to laugh, to think, to cry
As stories of this present unfurl to the blue sky.
The dramas take new token, the psychic otherwise,
Pretending to reveal the peaceful, wise advice,
Erasing the soul purpose, the harmony got charged
Through the revenge on sagas untold, deeply estranged.
Nothing has changed on earthy, nostalgic drive of life,
The colours of the passions, the dreams, the fight, the strife.
They are still breathing yearning, carving a cup of zest
With mysteries unfolding beyond the wisdom’s quest.
But still has changed the settings, the place where love returns,
And requisites have altered under the new reforms.

If existence is dramatic, a lively performance,
The rehearsal is counted as none behind the bars.
The acts are reckoned blindly in folders on websites:
A gathering of wishes designed by modern life.
The data takes the power, the scripts humbly obey,
Yet, no one needs them either when pictures everyday
Are feeding walls of Facebook, Snapchat, and Instagram,
With pretty posing girls in search of their prince charm:
A man of the six’s package, six figures on the land
Through monthly revenues, cashing them on their hand,
Nevertheless, the man must be on his six feet,
Smiling and looking smart, wise, humble, and complete.

O, dear Isis girl, the world has changed a lot
I dare I say sometimes, but still under the plot
Shoves the same human craving: to love and to be loved,
The ancestral enigmas in which dramas unfold.
The controlling desire, the maniac ‘get rich’
Has gotten a new frock through the YouTube bright pitch,
A square within the cities, worldwide lighting its lamps,
Where Cinderellas’ persons get millions of fans.
You see, the fairy baguettes, still promise better life
Since older Cinderella got her as the big prize.
But in contrast with past, the present just demand
The sweetest cream of richness without the working hard.

The candid prince no longer shows up on his white horse
But driving expectations within the online source,
Where fish are plenty even, the sea is dead for good,
And honesty is shrinking, revealing karmic wound.
The polymers are teaching new lessons in the land
Highlighting taste of damping, nasty, bitter, and grand.
Yet freedom has bright colours, empowering the hope
To forecast inspiration in zestful horoscope.
Meantime, Tamas, the legend figure is tying vibes
To the new streams of river, still gifting its dark side.
As memories are drifting between the seasons’ camps,
Perennial life’s circle rolls through poetic stamps.

© Simona Prilogan, 2024, London

Image Pixabay