Tuesday, 31 March 2015


Forlornness....I revel in the mellifluent
greyness of its hollow sound,
a resonance of dark beauty, restoring,
familiar, as is all true beauty.
Is it music to my ears alone?

I was born into this symphony of slate
clouds, cold, raw fog and dying
seeds interred in yesterday's ashes.
This desolation is my sacrament.

Leaden drops pound the melting snow,
as she rips pale buds from tender
green apices, rends stamens and pistils 
from the Season's first lilies. 
Why do you smile so, mother?

The weight of this phantasm words could
scarcely limn. Each Spring it settles
upon my chest as a pall of the dead, its
moist, yielding softness melds with
my skin as bloodied pinions into still water.

A lonely child mourns your unseen flames,
little broken lamps. Forlorn grey
sounds of ripping, severing, haunt her
dreams, as the hollow clatter of mother's
secateurs on the white wooden stool.

The burden of words unclaimed lurks in
my bones, of sobs unheard, cries
disregarded, meanings unconstrued.
My old soul shall never know
profound slumber.

© 2015 Lily's Verse
Lilium Candidum

Source: www.liveinternet.ru
Artist: Gustav Pope

Sunday, 29 March 2015



Life blossoms all around me; primordial
colours of the Sun dance upon
my fingers, spirited steps born of pride in
Nature's artwork grace this oasis
of birth and incandescent song.

Vaughan Williams' lark ascends to meet
yellow wagtails' marigold notes
in my own varicoloured safe haven.

Glorious Spring! Every nook and cranny
holds poems waiting to be set down. 

Pink cassia garlands take their last bow,
lace cool, green carpets this day,
their interim resting place, for they are
fated to sustain Summer's growth. 

Nestlings, puppies gamboling on the grass,
growing hives, budding verse, promise.....

Myriad bleeding blooms rest upon frozen
mountain slopes in a faraway land.
Myriad gardens in faraway lands will not
know Spring this year.

Far away. 

Life has chosen me, I know not why.

In a while I shall deadhead my coral roses.

© 2015 Lily's Verse
Lilium Candidum

Source: commons.wikimedia.org
Artist: Vincent van Gogh

Friday, 27 March 2015


Beauteous Nymph, consort of Zephyrus,
with eternal Spring his bride he dow'rd,
the first seeds 'pon Earth's vastness she scattered,
by her fragrant breath the hills and plains flow'rd.

Blossoming, fruition, her dominion,
o'er gardens, orchards and fields she reigns,
her perfumed riches the Horae display,
man's form and anima she sustains.

From her ev'ry spirant roses burst forth,
'neath her tread clover and daisies grow,
honey makers to meadows she beckons,
for their sweet gifts 'pon man to bestow.

Her bounty 'pon the Graces she confers,
the gods' tresses her chaplets adorn,
blossoms from Hyacinth's blood she conjured,
as Apollo his beloved mourned.

Now Earth wakens, Persephone awaits,
Helios returns, the frost departs,
Great Zephyrus the thirsting ground drenches,
warmth and freshness 'pon the soil casts.

In fecund spreads Carpus' spirit stirs,
Chloris, Nature's verdant robes caress;
your grace this Springtide 'pon crops and vines show'r
each season our homes with plenty bless.

© 2015 Lily's Verse
Lilium Candidum

Source: commons.wikimedia.org
Artist: John William Waterhouse

Tuesday, 24 March 2015


Is this Elysium's voice, this beauty
born of celestial winds and
starlight? Sole truth would render
its tones so pure, its timbre
unerring, unwavering.

Is this a divinity, this glimmer that
glides upon waves of
Earth's own jubilation? Sole thy
silver tones, Great Minstrel,
could alchemise man's words and
notes into garlands worthy
of the gods.

Is this a panacea that streams from
thy throat? Sole Calliope's
child could illumine Earth's darkest
corners with paeans to
hope and love eternal, heal this
marred and broken world,
soothe spirits destitute of dreams.

Is this thy soul on wing, o son of
Parnassus? Sole such
amplitude could suffuse the four
winds, subdue the storm of
discontent raging in man's breast.

Is this an invocation, Orpheus, that
soars to Selene's heart?
Would that we mortals were
receptacles as worthy! Would that
we with our hearts listened
to thy sublime proffer!
Thusly would we attain absolution.

© 2015 Lily's Verse
Lilium Candidum

Source: imgkid.com
Artist: Hugues Jean François Paul Duqueylard

Saturday, 21 March 2015


I am the green wind that blows over the sleeping
earth, bidding life return to the land,

I am the voice that whispers to the Great Mother,
exhorting her to emerge in her blooming splendour,

I am the heartsong of the returning Sun, the refrain
of Creation, the paean of lengthening days,

I am the gentle warmth that melts the last snow,
the first bud bursting through the yielding soil,

I am the light of Aries's first point, the viridescent
jewel in Spring's varicoloured chaplet,

I am the longing of the seed for sunlit air, the first
stirring of life in the cool, dark soil, 

I am the womb that brings forth every garden and
field anew, the bounty that graces your table,

I am the first dewdrop upon Earth's verdant spread,
the rainbow mist that laces the treetops,

I am the golden lay that threads the endless blue
yonder, bearing the joy of renewal to distant stars,

I am the perfume of blossoming orchards, the tender,
opaline glow over rain drenched meadows, 

I am the dance of clouds to the music of mountain
streams, the silver cascade that stills your thirst,

I am Persephone, Flora, Cybele, Ashanti, Osiris and
Freya; the deities of Springtide and birth all hail.

© 2015 Lily's Verse
Lilium Candidum

Source: bluebutterfliesandme.wordpress.com
Artist: John William Waterhouse

Thursday, 19 March 2015


Anon shall the Goddess emerge
from the Great Below,
clad in veils of dreams she wove
in snow-kissed slumbers.

Into the ascending Light shall she
rise upon the iridescent
mist of gentle Spring showers, her
colours breathe into the winds. 

Winter's last shadows melt into the
the returning Sun's soft
brilliance. Silken strands of palest
gold sigh o'er the forest
floors, sparkling spirals swirl 'pon 
burgeoning brooks.

Silver strains of birth, of renewal and
hope, shall resound o'er 
Earth's children, kindling the inner
flame in ev'ry bloom,
sweetest songs in ev'ry bird's throat,
drawing all Creation
into her vein of expression.

Defer to the Great Mother, for now
she would touch the
pinnacle of her joy! E'en the stars
crave a glimpse of her 
glowing, vivifying splendour, yearn
to rest in her sweet embrace.

© 2015 Lily's Verse
Lilium Candidum

Image: www.5mhrm.com

Image: thecelticjourney.wordpress.com

Monday, 16 March 2015


A bright Spring moon silvers
the roof and the budding
pink cassias. Great sheets of
argent light deck the lawns.

Still, the house lies in shadow,
not a home, rather a hollow
draped in darkness, outlined in
spectral remnants of the 
brightness it cruelly disowned.

Sleep eludes me, dearest sister.
I stray into your rosarium; 
here, silver beams throw bushes
denuded of blooms into vivid
relief against the white walls.

Starkly silhouetted severed
stems summon my
tears; they speak a truth I do
not wish to know.

No power could restore you to
me, no entreaties to Him 
imbued with the collective 
fervour of every prayer uttered
through the ages. 

My grief's sole companion bids
me farewell. Did she minister
to you, sister, through the dark
night of your soul? 

The first shafts of deep coral
shed their faint radiance
above the slumbering gardens.
Lovingly they swaddle each
leaf and thorn in misty pink-gold,
in your beloved hues.
Yes, in this light you live, in its
soft, warm glow.

A whirlwind of whispers breaks
in upon the silent verdure, 
as doves and thrushes rise into
the dawn with one accord.

Do you ascend with them, sister,
you, who now stand upon
the ætheric threshold of a joyous
new adventure?

Yes, you have merged with gentle
Aurora, blithe spirit!
We shall greet each other as
always at daybreak.

© 2015 Lily's Verse
Lilium Candidum

Source: www.liveinternet.ru
Artist: Élisabeth Sonrel

Saturday, 14 March 2015


Spring weeps this day for you
who came to Earth
with rainbows in her eyes and
a heart full of song.

Her sobs echo in your rosarium,
slipping into spaces
where carmine blooms nodded
in the morning breeze.

A single coral rose graces your
eternal rest. Her sisters
seek to lend our now bereft abode
 your warmth and soul.

I stagger back into a vapid world
destitute of heart and
vision, wending my way through
a miasma of pretense.

Cold silences of bygone decades
ooze through cracks in
masks of studied sorrow. Satan's
minions have triumphed.

Wandering the house, I seek further
traces of you. Endless
bushels of living flames could not
illumine this darkness.

Your lilac apron lies in a crumpled
heap on the kitchen
table by your phone, your smiling
incarnation its wallpaper.

I shall not weep this day, dearest
sister. My tears shall 
fall when the last of your beloved
roses begins to fade.

© 2015 Lily's Verse
Lilium Candidum

Source: pinterest.com
Artist: Samuel Melton Fisher

Thursday, 12 March 2015


All morning I endeavoured
to fill your absence
with coral roses, remnants
of your earthly life
that laugh louder than you
ever ventured to.

I plundered every last bloom
from your beloved
bushes, sister. Your radiance
shall not go unseen
this day, nor your restoring
fragrance unmarked. 

Butterflies and bees enact a
varicoloured musical
sketch in the garden, buzzing
and flitting to the
lingering rhythms of airs you
sang to them alone. 

Henceforth, I shall tend these
shrubs with my wonted
discipline, a poor substitute,
indeed, for your gentle devotion.

Perhaps Heaven's warriors,
weary from battling
evil, have greater need of you
than mere mortals,
of your hands and eyes that
spoke the language
of Eternal Light.

© 2015 Lily's Verse
Lilium Candidum

Image Source: www.liveinternet.ru
Artist: Constance Phillott

Tuesday, 10 March 2015


Strange, how self-preservation
inspires such ornate speech,
such poignant expression...

Furtive, conspiratorial whispers
yield to moving eloquence
about your beauty,
about your numerous virtues.

Dust laden, mildewed verbiage,
platitudes stowed away
in those sunless cellars they
call their minds, these are
this world's parting gifts to you.

Through a veil of numbness I
watch as they spout
grandiloquent verbs and phrases 
culled from a thesaurus
yellowed with age, punctuating
dissemblance with impassioned
sobbing, as if to drown out
echoes of their own cruel design.

Yes, your silence fell too long on
deaf ears. They shall now 
outdo themselves and each other
in their eagerness to reference
you in the past tense.

I, for one, shall favour brevity
just this once, my dear sister:
"Words could not fill the spaces
into which you breathed life.
No, these are merely unwitting
vehicles of your trespassers' guilt.
You shall be avenged."

© 2015 Lily's Verse
Lilium Candidum

Source: www.wanderlustlust.com
Artist: Paul Delaroche