At fluting giggles and hymns,
I woke from dark dreams
underneath a quivering oak.
Girls whose sandals and feet
seemed horses and harnesses raced
through the grass, hair flying.
The sun looked down
on pale cherry blossom
when Love approached (her irises gems,
her limbs the whitest) first,
as her mystical servants bent
with willow-wick baskets to harvest
flowers freshly sown by her feet –
a crumb-trail of lily and larkspur.
I wish you had seen Persephone smiling,
the rope of her hair that hung at her nape,
her skewed wreath of roses and robe of light blue,
in her basket a straw and a crocus.
The moment she saw me
I held a red petal up
between her face and the sun.
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1 comment:
I like the beautiful images this poem gives me - the last stanza is especially beautiful. I like the way the rhythm and order is interrupted part-way through to somehow give the poem even more of a dream-like quality.
I'm enjoying reading through 'Kingpin Diary' - it's a very special piece of work.
Your writing is awesome! I learn something new every time I read something you've written.
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