Christendom of Sir Walter Scott-the connoisseur and realm of Ivanhoe

Peevish abbotsford enchanted a woodcraft with holding a candle to the devil

The fair Jewishness of the Maiden incumbent Rebecca’s life endangered in chastisement

O holy daughter of Rachael cried and lamented the Isaac of York in agony, grief and fear

Chivalrous Ivanhoe, forgotten and oblivious of of the atonement of the sylphlike Damsel?

Unflinching moral realism struck the heart of Sir Walter Scott adhering to the devastating plight

And indulgence in carnage of conflagration among the vainglorious; and fierce and haughty Templar’s temperamental outburst; and vehemence

The necromancy of witchcraft and wizardry, avaricious sorcery and gluttonous elixirs were the allegations the daughter of Isaac of York: beautiful Jewish Maiden being convicted,

Despite the precarious predicament she wasn’t dissolute, seduced or profaned!

Had had the fierce Brian De Bois-Guilbert in proclamation of misdemeanor; amidst irksome, wearisome and starvation and imprisonment, blows and strikes, journeys and indigestion; I profess this avowed and promised solemn ambition of entreating a relationship: succour and relish through consummation of nuptial and procurement

The valiant and renowned Ivanhoe’s fair and royal Christian Mistress Lady Rowena’s aphoristic relation

Didn’t give Ivanhoe a dirty look from Rebecca’s shimmering and, starkly starry eyes in the glimmering twilight

Exorcisms performed with the errand of obsequies towards apparition dwelling grotesquely in English blood and countryside and farmyards:

Deeming rectitude of Norman and English aboriginality

Wherefore minstrels, swineherds fools, chaplains and bishops

Singing the song in chorus of phantom delight in reverie;

The Black Knight restored to the monarchy whilst yonder venison bestowed in grace abounding :

Endowed amidst the Sherwood foresters anchorites Robin Hood, Friar Tuck and the merry men

Spellbinding merry men thus rejoicing and obliged in aura of disencumber and entwined enticement and delusion

Recurrence beams of the sundown dissolved in ecclesiastical importunities;

Apostle’s epistle enrolled and entitled to the sepulcher of Rebecca:

Sherwood forests blaze and romanticize a chakra and mantra in the nirvana as an incantations to bid adieu and farewell to thee: Rebecca The Blessed Virgin!

To the Drunken Spirit of William Blake- A poetry written as fiction in free and blank verse

Oh Blake with your drunken spirit you’ve adorned,

The everlasting grace and beauty of the Gospel.

You’ve illuminated mankind with your Poetical Sketches,

I love the Lamb and sympathize the ecstasy of a little kid.

With the proclamation of lifelong belief you have painted;

Through imagining The Marriage of Heaven and Hell.

Humanity burst into warring fragmented lamentations;

Ah! Milton and Jerusalem appeared in reconciled visions.

Your engravings sculptured, color drawings printed:

And the water color illustrations giving a feeble and tottering The Real Man The Imagination which liveth forever.

I read William Wordsworth’s commentary in the pleasantries exchange with the saying goes:

“There is no doubt that this poor man was mad, but there is something in the madness of this man which interests me more than the sanity of Lord Byron and Walter Scott.”

I narrate the gladdening and overwhelming tidings of:

Henry in a letter to the Damsel Dorothy-

He lives…enjoying constant intercourse with the world of spirits. He receives visits from Shakespeare, Milton, Dante, Voltaire etc..etc..etc and has given me repeatedly their words in conversations.

Have you been pondering in enchanted walks too Blake?

Might have nymphs and fairies in bewilderment.

Wherefore divine incarnations of Blake stare at distress

In stunning blasphemy thus Antichrist dwells in dismay.

Jesus voice thundering sounds in compelling spirits

As stones bleed John; Satan put sin in the cross and tomb.

You are a mental traveler Blake: preacher romantic

And here I present my farewell to your soul spiritual heal.

My Quill at Parchment Upon Reading Banquet Lecture of Lord of The Flies Laureate Novelist and Playwright William Golding

Golding’s holiday privilege -heyday castle of ‘Seashore’

Beached cavern where King David and King Solomon

Resigned at proverbs and psalms

A mermaid entombed of Julia of Norwich

Buried upon the banks of the Western seashore amidst rocky cliffs

Whereupon and hithertofore silvery greyed Golding’s ivory epitaph parchments

Gracing engraved magical spells-‘We need more humanity, more care and more love’

The Earth Mother Gaia washes away the flotsam jetsam along with her tresses of waving bluish splashing caresses

Quintessentially I have reached there and been starkly marvel

Wondering the blazing thought of mysteries sea creatures and marine life

We as children of the dear stars

What shine sparkling stellar wreaths of laurels

No sooner had I reached tumult and strife creeping pavements bleakish thoroughfares, than it became clear to me that the place I should be was the isle of seashore’s I had just forlorn

Aaaargh! Pity me my dearest soul!     

Had I but a glimpse of noon-time with my Julia Juliet upon the weeds and reeds

Serenading my beauty’s bosom, me and the  seashore’s flowering oasis purplish greenery

Being a universal pessimist forevermore; I shall detest fairy tales

Allegorizing ghoulie ghostie or weea beastie.

 Since these very spirits dehumanizing and denaturalizing

That drives my heyday temperance of sanity to formidable cauldron of vanity 

Foggy and frosty mournful snowman Golding’s threshold fireplace

Suppertime roaring howler alderman, corporations and liveries harangue

Disgracer supper a bad lobster thrown away into the gutters

In disenchantment sea butter feather fluttering in abysmal dismay

Abhorring in abominable spirits of phantom spectre chunk of undigested beef

Legions of goblins

Despising in admonishing guffaw of a fragment of potatoes undone