Forging a Path Ahead

I am thinking of getting into poetry with a fantasy theme, faeries, dragons, forests, caves, darkness… the deep places of the world. They shall be poetry with verses that pitch and sway; dart and dance; scan and peer; telling and showing stories; cobbling together imagery and sensory metaphors and similes into works that dredge the bogs of my imagination. Those bogs are full of fog and mist; bubbles and foam; croaks and groans... they form a vague confabulation of what is to come and what once could have been.

The works will be inundated with the richness of vision and sensation that exist in all things, yet for things that might not exist, but might; dreams; whims; illusions that form a backbone, and can be added to, with vast detail and descriptive clarity. Clarity enough to distinguish flakes of skin; wisps of hair; glints of drool; pulsating of arteries; hints of fragrance; traces of whispers.