Elise Stewart, is a UK poet, and the founder and editor of the International poetry magazine Decanto. Her work has been included in various magazines and anthologies both in the UK and Internationally.
She has written many collections of poetry over the years, including ‘For All Eternity’, ‘The Last Lament’, ‘Another Sentiment’, ‘A Different Song’…
Her latest collection ‘Paradise’ has been widely reviewed. She has also been featured and interviewed in various magazines and ezines, both in the UK and abroad, including; The Tower Journal, USA, Sonnetto Poesia, Canada, Gloom Cupboard USA & Book Seekers agency, UK …
Her relay interview about the poet ‘Hilda Doolittle’ was featured in ‘The Jacket’ 2009.
Elise’s poetry has always been described as Romantic/Metaphysical and visual. This whole concept of conveying the poems visually brought about the idea of video poems. The objective being to merge different media, in order to ‘bring the poems to life’.
‘I like to totally immerse myself in creating my video poems. It is almost like creating a short film, and such an intriguing way to collaborate multi media, of poem, image and music. It’s the next best thing to a stage production, which has always been a dream of mine. I love the expression of words and how the spoken voice can convey the feeling or emotion of the poem… and of course the music, which I so enjoy composing. It is very satisfying to be able to bring all aspects together collectively’.
Please visit her website for more info: http://elisepoetry.webs.com
Masque Publishing: http://myweb.tiscali.co.uk/masquepublishing/
I dream of thee
‘Neath the soft foamed waves,
That to every sandy cove retreat.
Where breeze about the haunting coast
Whispers through the olive trees.
I dream of thee
‘Neath Lerician skies, that open wide
‘Cross shore, to thin horizon line.
Where figures, through the passing days,
Like apparitions drift.
And in the still of moments thus,
Where secrets, to the heart reveal
I find you ‘neath the dappled rays,
Forever bound, the silent waves.
Through the tempest storm of death
Which eternity, at last, consents
Around the haunting mirror pool
I hear your voice, your words lament.
Through the glade of endless blue,
Through the waning olive trees,
Forever bound the silent waves,
It is here
That ‘I dream, of thee.’
Poetry in this post: © Elise Stewart
Published with the permission of Elise Stewart