HAVEN

My astral body tiptoed through
the gradual crescendo 
of silence, as you cast your first
ever circle of happiness.
I smelled the dread beneath your 

practiced smile.

Here I stood, frozen in time. Your
blood seeded my cells
with life, my spirit with death, you
womb of shadows, of
penumbral mystery. What do these
tears portend, mother?

Why fear the grim dark you birthed?
Does it not conceal in
its ample, layered gathers the very 
carnage you wrought?
Does this revenant's muteness not 
dilate your courage?

And now, you would cast off these
robes you wove and
run into the embrace of the one who
denied you so cruelly.
The Grim Reaper has fled, your scent
repels him.

Reprisals rain down, the deluge beats
on your mortal bones.
Whom would you bait now? Your pleas
puncture the silence.
Would you dare drive a stake through
its beating heart, while
I fashion a soul from scars, tears and
an abiding death wish?

An inert shape floats upon a bloodless
sea, the movement of
pale waters lending it an appearance
of life. The final chapter 
looms large, our combined fates locked
into its time and space.

© 2014 Lily's Verse

Lilium Candidum

Image: LITTLE SPEEDWELL'S DARLING BLUE
Source: www.liveinternet.ru
Artist: John Everett Millais

FOR MY GODSON

Thro' tend'rest greenness a
jasmine bud peeked,
Heaven's own Light its halo
held,
cherub cries o'er a soul's
wasteland sounded
a leaden heart to love
compelled.

Bliss unbounded of sweet
celestial gift,
hope enkindled in dark's
abode
torment of ceaseless,
fearsome dreams banished,
visions of fairy skies
bestowed.

Your infant gurgle my sad
spirit healed,
childish solace my fears
becalmed,
in the dawnlike glow of your
smile I basked,
your laughter effused God's
own balm.

For halcyon days I shall e'er
be grateful,
for your bequest of this
new life,
you father me, mother me,
precious one,
my path you ease thro'
every strife.

My wish for you and ev'ry
child rings thus,
may courage and truth guide
your way,
may your joys be great, your
misfortunes, mild,
pure love bide in your hearts
each day.

© 2014 Lily's Verse
Lilium Candidum

Image: webneel.com

SHADOWS

Do you believe you hold court, 

mother, awash in the icy 

sparkle of ancient,

faceted, polished coal,
your sustenance of choice?

Man-made incandescence
luxuriates on
every surface, colludes with
the colloids on your
skin to fulfil the avaricious 
alchemist's promises.

Masses of blush roses gasp
in the glowing void that
carries you, billow over the
empty palaver
you surround yourself with,
thirsty for the
restoring light and air you
tore them from.

Would that they could tint
your finely moulded
lifeless cheeks! Would that
their scent could
blunt your bitter blade!

No, it is their shapes and girths
you mark, perusing the outline
of each petal with a
magnifying glass.

The imperfect now lie in an old
basket, destined 
for the compost heap.

I believe I shall take the faded,
the blemished, into my 
shadows, lend them 
colour, depth and song.

© 2014 Lily's Verse
Lilium Candidum

Image: VANITY
Source: www.artscroll.ru
Artist: Frank cadogan Cowper

SOUL

Drops of Sun perish in the grey,

raddled air, their sallow

wraiths mottle the wind's

keening.

Here, rainbows come to die.

Faerie wings merge into picture

frames of mirrored blue

the darkened stream still holds.

Here, I teach my eyes to lie.

Snares of scraggy branches

trap moonbeams,

vivifying substrates disdaining

the very ground that

sustains them.

This soulscape prepares for

my last oblation

to this earthly life, a soothing

absence

spread over infinity.

Dark strands snake through

the mocking haze.

These fashion silken ropes, 

turbid planes, my bier. 

My quest for Light I entombed 

in bygone spaces.

It now blithely sails through a 

faraway radiance these 

perfidious eyes shall never see.

© 2014 Lily's Verse

Lilium Candidum

Image: weheartit.com

SWAN 

Bird of myth, fidelity incarnate,
paragon of love and grace,
Nephele's paeans my silver-white carved,
moonglow, my beguiling face.

Zephyrus' flight my plumage fashioned,
lilies' breath my curving neck,
my bill Helios' rays gold tinted,
eyes starlit onyx bedecked.

Eternal beloved of poets, scribes,
my heart Apollo's own sparked,
luminous emblems of harmony's light,
his birth my kin joyful marked.

The gods' winged bards o'er fair Leto's bed sang,
 golden notes 'pon her child show'red,
seven rings in flight o'er the city traced,
babe in reverence embow'red.

'Pon their wing he from Delos ascended,
'cross Elysian Fields traversed,
'pon Eridanos' banks they gathered,
the land in his song immersed.

Of celestial springs my forebears drank deep,
to purest beauty aspired,
Aphrodite's chariot thro' Heaven drew,
the Muses to praise inspired.

By and by Zeus his feathered choristers
to mortals' abode bequeathed,
for mankind from his darkness to restore
with fragrance his blossoms wreathed.

Alas, as to Earth's realm they descended,
gift of song were they denied,
mute in life, these fair harbingers of Spring,
soul's lays would chant as they died.

No mortal this bittersweet air shall hear
of Radiance no man descries,
sole infant hearts and the pure of spirit
this melody would agnise.

Quietus tho' our last cadences lament,
blissful undersong these threads,
the repining stream with sorrow brims
as Nature copious tears sheds.

Erelong shall death my inmost light release,
for my threnody to sing,
o'er rippling waters thro' my ebbing breath
and fading strength shall it ring.

In Heaven's gardens shall I e'er more dwell,
'pon limpid lakes blithesome float,
Apollo his lyre to my voice shall tune,
as rainbows chime in my throat.

© 2014 Lily's Verse
Lilium Candidum

Image: pics4twitts.wordpress.com

THE AOS SÍ

I

Nature's guardians, tutelary spirits,

untruths and cunning they forswear,

vanquished children of the Goddess Danu

these isles with man, bird and beast share.

Invading mortal sons of Míl Espáine

the good folk in battle subdued,

thence in woods, caves and mountains they linger,

'neath great mounds their peoples seclude.

Magical immortals to Nature bound

their sunken abodes jealous guard,

sequestered beings into legend passed, 

scriveners' tales their repute marred.

No taller than an earthly child they stand,

no webbed feet have, nor gift of flight,

'pon thrushes they ride, ragwort stems bestride,

minuscule whirlwinds we oft sight.

No deceivers, they, nor snaggers, nor sprites,

e'er nimble, silent and discreet, 

to the pure of heart their forms they reveal,

sole those menace, who folks mistreat.

The kind and penitent would they e'er aid,

the feeling no reprisals fear,

woe betide humans who their peace disturb,

as rascals who at wee folk sneer.

For such would they blight, their cattle and crops,

their bairns and kin spirit away,

'pon trespassers vicious revenge exact,

'pon all who to their ring forts stray.

Misfortune and disease farmers shall plague,

who their beloved whitethorns fell,

poison darts at sheep and horses they shoot,

their wells and gardens baleful spell.

II

Music of birdsong, of laughing waters

'pon gilded harps they artful play,

at twilight revels in circles cavort,

till dawn to mellow chanting sway.

Mystical melodies mortals enchant,

bewitched souls to the barrows lure,

from ceaseless frolicking these waste away,

suchlike must we from harm secure.

Thro' twilit hours 'pon the banks of Loch Gur

the Otherworld's gates open wide,

fulgent paths to eternal Summer lead,

where the faerie monarchs abide.

There, as a bairn one blessed Ostara,

wondrous loveliness I beheld,

as loch and trees in the gloaming sparkled,

my heart with astonished hope swelled.

For tales had I heard of the Faerie Queen,

her gilded doves and golden steed,

o'er the banks a vision ariding came

Spring's advent thro' the land decreed.

At Beltane, Midsummer's Eve and Samhain,

'pon these sacred days of each year,

faerie mounts 'cross fields and meadows they ride,

their paths to cross villagers fear.

With plentiful poteen, first milk and fruit

these sublime beings we appease,

thro' gifts and deeds our gratitude evince,

for words the fair folk do not please.

III

Tho' benevolent, e'er to peace disposed,

to gentle mischief they incline,

daisies to grass tether, the mare's mane braid,

sleeping bairns' locks nightly entwine.

Their corn they kibble when the village sleeps,

into the mill steal after dark,

the miller they unsparing recompense,

his silent consent grateful mark.

'Tis said they men bemuse, in riddles speak,

the trustful with banter waylay,

will o' the wisps such from safe paths distract,

befogg'd travellers lead astray.

In days of yore, a strapping passerby

faerie maids at the brook espied,

'pon a rock sat, for their bathing to view,

our forebears' warnings he defied.

With strident applause he the beauties cheered,

brazen grinned, as their laughter stilled,

all at once the faerie maidens vanished,

a gnawing fear this youth's heart chilled.

Out of the shadows a bent crone emerged,

with deepest loathing her lips pursed,

whispering, a malediction uttered,

this foolish youth with blindness cursed.

Charms to protect we 'pon our persons bear,

for their wrath and malice we dread,

cold iron, St. John's wort, four-leaf clovers

as rowan leaves, berries, and bread.

Lore of changeling souls, of shape shifters tells,

such human form and guise assume,

'mong mortals live as boon or affliction,

erelong their faerie life resume.

And so, to this would I the wise exhort,

kindness accord to all you greet,

your victuals with strangers ungrudging share,

for these might be wee folk you meet.

© 2014 Lily's Verse

Lilium Candidum

Image: RIDERS OF THE SIDHE
Source: territa.ru
Artist: John Duncan

SYLPH

My æther body 
rides 
with the birds
through
your airy domain.
In the distance,
you float on
waves of
lilac wafting
through
Spring's tresses.

The welkin showers
its sparkling beads
upon you,
fills your
thirsting orbs 
to overflowing;
crystal cyan
you scatter in
your 
silver wake. 

The roses smile
as you
caress their cheeks.
Honey bees
twirl to your
wispy tunes. 
I strain
to discern
your feathery notes
overlaying their
gentle hum.

Would you sing to
one who
yearns for
your wisdom,
to one who
lives
between waking
and dreaming?

The Muses' epistles
you bear upon
your wings,
Earth bestud
with their
glory.
Through you,
the wind
speaks.
And man
spurns the
very
elixir his
soul craves.

© 2014 Lily's Verse

Lilium Candidum

Image: www.pinterest.com

WINDOW

Another world, another time,

beyond the bounds of

these frames of light, a topaz

aura softens swathes

of spangled indigo; wisteria,

Spring gentians, soft 

exhale into the luminous ether.

Wayward purple shreds dance

upon the sinuous

breeze; spent, they dismount

their airy steeds, 

sink onto dusty sills, where this 

earthly journey ends. 

Betimes must they submit 

to thatness, in love

embalmed tranquil repose.

The sward beckons, wind chimes

meld with mellow choral 

Evensong, along waning spirals 

petals descend, the 

favoured into nodding roses' 

hearts, in one last dawn to 

glory, others, into eternal sleep.

And I, an execration, reach for the

refulgence that roofs

the land of the living. I, a grim

crisis apparition from a dark

corner of the land, long for a light

just out of my reach.

With greyness I content myself,

with dappled shadows.

My brooding presence you banish

to the dark, but the

window unfailing finds me, a space

foretokening Light.

Through it I see winds collide and

tomorrow's stars

strewn upon the grass. Earth's song

beats in my blood.

And I shall dream of pale wisteria

beams pirouetting across

my window sill with abandon, joyfully

rehearsing my every step,

while you invoke the Dark Lord and

compose my epitaph. 

I shall dance beneath palest violet.

© 2014 Lily's Verse

Lilium Candidum

Image: WISTERIA IN PROVENCE
Source: fineartamerica.com
Artist: Jeanne Smith