Tuesday, 1 November 2016


Plain not for the fading Star, this blessed Season;
instead, shine your soul’s beacon
upon that nascent orblet burrowed in the spiral
of its timeless Within.
Invoke that eternal Flame, pilgrims,
to its deathless whorls bequeath your treasures,
these distilled drops of truest joy
your inner eye weeps,
that no mortal heart could ever claim.
Let these rise as plumed jewels
into Dark's spangled Bell, its liquescent tongues
this late Autumn Night,
sounding no sorrowful knell, but speaking healing,
repose, the springing forth of renewed Light.
Did not the skies ring gold through eventide,
ere the gloaming fell
upon shorn pastures and browning dells?
Shall mere flesh lament that which
our Mother honours and the Elements praise,
for the Universe so ordained?
We, who dispute the heavens' every sign,
and seek Tyche's hand to man's favour to incline,
could not fathom the whorls of divine Design.
Nay, we tread a limitless path through Time,
Beginning to sacred Beginning,
for who, votaries of Life, would ponder Death,
when the Infinite wills no end?

© 2016 Lilium Candidum
Lily's Verse

Image: http://time.com/4213747/star-birth-chamaeleon-complex

Wednesday, 19 October 2016


The winnowing Wind pauses in mid-flow,
scattering her soliloquy
to waking stars, for the Oak would speak,
exhort his every root and branch
to minister to a gentler Light,
to the Harvest Moon that holds the Night.
I stumble into the now still scent
of wildflowers she bears through Seasons
that know no frontiers,
their fluid portraits born of Twilight's Eye,
dissolving each Dawn
into a Sky that wears wings.

Time returns a lost memory, a triton shell
that yielded the sound of its Sea to a Soul
that crept into its chosen crypt
under the lamp, for to preserve this treasure
of lives agone in deepest darkness.
She, the Artist in my dreams, wields a vision
I shall never possess.
Nay, her renderings must be and live
in a lapis mist as an airy gem, for my heart
waits by a ring of stone.

A falling leaf catches Autumn's first tune;
a golden harp string thrums
through the tremulous silver Dark,
abrim with voices I do not hear, yet know.
The Season grows,
moment by copper moment, into the ellipse
of my own Pearl Island of inspiration
in an ink-dark Eternity.

© 2016 Lily's Verse
Lilium Candidum

Source: commons.wikimedia.org
Artist: Samuel Palmer

Wednesday, 31 August 2016


A white calm rests upon the tumult;
Life and Death coalesce
for a moment, arcing as a new vault
over an ocean of broken breaths.
Memory's silver tides await
a forgotten Angel;
she, who once strode upon the Light,
extends a bruised wing
in the dark, mirroring the keeling
of petals in the wind,
of leaves on sky-tinted waters,
echoing the life-kindling sussurus
of the eternal Fount.
The whisper of wounded white pinions
waken the warrior upon shorn earth,
this valiant victor 
who sheds tears too long forsaken
where a child cast her joy
into the Sun, where a hermit tended
the bleeding Dove,
where a mystic blessed
marauding brigands, where a priestess'
invocation rent the heavens.
A new Dawn tints the sighing River,
as, in his reflection,
the hero glimpses the fallen.

© 2016 Lily's Verse
Lilium Candidum

Source: www.the-athenaeum.org
Artist: Odilon Redon

Monday, 15 August 2016


A changeling light streamed across the forest floor;
flowing, pearly fire bathed my yearning brow.
A Knowing I knew not I possessed spoke,
the voiceless voice of my fervent seeking that Time
may not claim.
"Not merely Moon echoing Sun, but a cosmic agency
consecrated to Beginnings
revives your Soul and Eye, this Night.
This Poet of the Hour and Prophet of the ages ordains
that you here meet your newer self
touched by radiant Hands that shape eternal skies.
You, who tread a changeful path
to impermanent calm, must forswear illusions,
your fears cast into foregone currents,
as the tree that surrenders its shadow of the moment
to the moving river.
Shall tomorrow's tides receive your mortal path,
your earthly endeavours colour some distant Dawn?
Would you command the reed of the Infinite?
Swear allegiance to the Light that powers your vessel,
upon this shore make a sacred vow, 
incunabulum of the deepest transformation.
Sole with the diminuition of vanity shall your truest, 
purest journey commence."

© 2016 Lily's Verse
Lilium Candidum

Artist: John Moore of Ipswich
Source: www.pinterest.com

Monday, 8 August 2016


A crackle glass Moon weeps
her broken rays
over the silver-blue nocturne
of the woodland stream,
upon the sediment
of our childish dreams, sisters.
My heart drums alone,
receiving this hour's legacy,
a beauty that at once
wounds the soul
and renders it whole.
Yet, my solitary path shall trace
an eternal question,
its answer in a sky that in vain
seeks your eye.
My breath I bound to a vow
spoken in secret
to these woods, where I invoked
the resonance of earth
amid ghosts of yellow garlands
and flowered trails.
Lines and curves of violet ink
emerge upon my page as though
from a waking dream,
stringing together memories of
leaf, branch and blossom,
moments of life, laughter and death. 
These, I shall inearth 
under our willow, for our Summers 
shall not live in another’s dream.

© 2016 Lily's Verse
Lilium Candidum

Source: commons.wikimedia.org
Artist: Joan Brull i Vinoyles

Thursday, 4 August 2016


An unrest like music afire
lifts the mist,
stirring the silenced Soul
to speak, to call to the gold
upon the horizon,
that it may seek
the window of its wound.

Despair's blade dulls in the
hush of the half-light,
as an Angel's tears fall upon
the salt of bloodied ground,
that Earth may weep
no more for the fallen.

A child regards the Abode
of her deepest fears,
tracing the blear edge of the
Dark Moon drifting past
veils and starlight, loving Her
whose shadowed hues
they impute to malediction
and misfortune.

Under a searing Summer Sun,
the parched land rises
to skies suffused with hues
of a harvest it alone sees,
awaiting fluid footfalls across
arid heavens.

A trustful emplacement within
the darkest Dark
prepares to receive the Light.

A rite of Breath at Life's altar,
affirmation of its rhythm -
this is Hope,
and the Spirit's elevation
its consummation.

© 2016 Lily's Verse
Lilium Candidum

Artist: Bela Čikoš Sesija
Source: galerijadeci.hr

Saturday, 30 July 2016


The mystery of Life she expounds
to your inmost flame;
your vessel she blesses, that it may
heed Time's decree.
No mortal affliction shall impede
your pathway to her favour;
the deaf may hear her tones,
the blind, see her light,
the mute, chant her praise,
the lame, sway in her radiance,
for she moves the Soul to
hear and speak, to dance and sing.
Her whisper whelms
the tyrant's roar, her touch enfeebles
the barbs of man's contempt.
Her tints she rains upon your domain,
even upon shores of your unbelief
that repel tides of Hope.
Her voice you would discern
in the moonlight tinkling upon the rill;
its silver tones take
unto your heart. Seek her, as the lily
that lines the grave
looks up to the Sun she no more sees.
Call to her in silent worship,
as a swan to the one rainbow that
knows its death-song.
In dreams, journey to your Spirit's birth,
to where Truth's golden shadow falls,
for, upon its eternal crest,
Beauty renews herself.

© 2016 Lily's Verse
Lilium Candidum

Source: www.the-athenaeum.org
Artist: John Duncan