Fantasy’s stamp is upon this sky,
from the cloud dust remains
of a quartet of ghosts, they grow,
gather pace on the carousel,
Ribbons and velvet, snow-manes and bridles
challenge the weather’s white sheeting silk,
with elegant knee bends and reared up defiance,
they fly into God’s frail face,
make demands, disintegrate into bones.
K. S. Moore
‘Fantasy’s Stamp’ is a poem I wrote around ten years ago. I recently thought about it because my daughter loves unicorns, winged horses and cloud watching. As I’ve got older, my poetry editing skills have improved, so I’ve cut this down considerably from its original length, hopefully retaining the elements of myth, magic and spiritualism that give the poem its energy.