Saturday, 27 February 2016


What force inclined your flame
toward the next stretch
of Eternity, sister, 
setting you upon the course to
the fateful culmination 
of an unfathomable plan?
When did you mount that unseen
tide that would bear
you to shores beyond knowing?
What tempest impaired
your earthly Bridge,
rendered its trestles fragile,
fashioned your casket from your
own inner Spring?
At what moment did you take your
leave of Life, sister? 
Did you preside over your passing,
over each step, discarding
belief, spurning lucid thought?
Did I hear a subdued parting in your
voice that seemed farther 
each day; a tacit farewell in words
falling away, in whispers
that echo, still, and stab the breath
from my being.
Yes, you grew into sorrow, for smiles
sat as strangers upon your face,
as Summer in the snow.
Your last breaths you bestowed upon
your beloved roses, 
for they flourished even as you faded.
Did you glow brightest with life,
ere you surrendered to death?
Did Darkness beckon, sister,
or Light?

© 2016 Lily's Verse
Lilium Candidum

Artist: Frederic Leighton

Tuesday, 23 February 2016


Springtide's spark I sought within
amid a sea of forms
I once wore and shall latterly wear.
No consolation I found
in thickening greenwoods 
replete with dreams, 
aglow with imminent blossoming,
their contentment voiced
in the silken rustle of early violets, 
in sounds of awakening
and rebirth, in the soil's rapture.

A boon unbidden flowed through
a breach in the faraway blue,
a solitary seed of elemental fire
that with a whisper burst 
into blooms of flame,
soothing as the very stream that
waters their roots.
Was this Wonder,
fecund fundament and fiery forge
of true knowing and wisdom?

Naught else could enthral clouds
upon their rain-ward path,
for the airy parade seemed to stop
transfixed as fleece
sewn into the early Spring sky.
Upon its camber breezes melodised;
the lark's strains
shone ever brighter, bidding Eos tarry 
at Apollo's Gates,
that a despairing seeker might
gather her hopeful hues.

Path and Goal met upon this Bridge
betwixt Earth and Elysium,
its image burned into the lake's
liquid turquoise mirror,
its import imprinted upon its waves,
its murmur ever caressing the waters,
even as its lucent expanse
dissolved in Time's ocean, leaving its
Light, Voice and Shape
in the eye of every heart and soul.

© 2016 Lily's Verse
Lilium Candidum

Artist: Daniel Gerhartz

Friday, 19 February 2016


Do you look upon my fragileness, 
great Sentinel of the skies,
at these eyes raised heavenward,
drinking of aery cyan oceans,
worshipping their tides till naught
remains of their hues
but a sprinkling of mauve mist and
turquoise jewels upon
twilight's countenance?

Aye, I am a wilful trespasser in your
limitless azure domain, 
brazen as Prometheus, pilfering 
Elysium's restoring Blue,
for to quench the rage that ceaseless
rends my innards as your forbear
did the wily Titan's liver.

Do you smite me with your golden
gaze, as I crave your wings?
Majestic Guardian, do not wish 
torment upon one who shall never
know repose even as all Earth sleeps.
Nyx and Selene, ink and silver,
mingle upon the waters,
their ripples speaking the language
of air and light, of flow and flight.

Nature perceives my spirit's unrest,
this Night; Mother bids me
cast off my shell, ascend through a 
heliotrope dark into
an all-embracing expanse
of beryl Silence and cerulean Light.
Upon Eos' rays shall I descend
to the bed of violets at my window,
to a promise of sky.

© 2016 Lily's Verse
Lilium Candidum

Image source:

Wednesday, 17 February 2016


I am a grain of sand seeking the desert,
a feather seeking a wing.
I was born into the vaporous realm that
binds the soil to the ether,
yet, I am a child of earth and blood,
thirsting for the very brick walls
and black roots that grazed and rent 
my flesh and spirit.
The darkness of a thousand blighted 
births weights my feet,
a cruel blessing, that I may not squander
the morsel of Light that
would sustain me, for the journey is long
and I would not hasten Time.
Nay, I would learn the momentum of this
nameless flow,
an animating force of non-love impelling
a sunless existence,
a non-life, a mode not of my choosing.
Aye, mother, I embark upon
a search mysterious even to myself,
my impost at each Gate
upon the sacred path wrought from pain, 
in flight from it,
aspiring to barter my eyes - your eyes -
for Vision, for redemption.
I must traverse this lightless terrain
toward a luminous axis,
toward the peduncle of the Cosmic Bloom,
where I could no more discern
the space between heights and depths.

© 2016 Lily's Verse
Lilium Candidum

Image source:
Artist: Samy Charnine

Monday, 15 February 2016


Words rain upon my tongue,
upon its unbending 
muteness meet their demise.
Tomorrow is but a
shadow waiting to take shape,
as a gust alive preceding
the wounded swallow.
I make a futile clutch at the 
sounds of early Spring,
at the glimmering green breath
that parts the earth to
meet the God. 
I invoke the dark brown depths
that birthed the verdant flame,
the Flow that waters
The Tree of Life, its ripples and
currents etched
in soil and stone, upon spirits
and skies.
The forest does not sing, this Day,
the Sacred Oak holds
the remnant of birdsong
in its ancient heart of light and
dark circles.
I am a waterless influent, 
Great River, drinking deep of 
cascades of voices
straining across oceans of Time,
that shower over
withered stalks and green alike.
Blessed respite,
mystical insight,
at once fleeting and prolonged,
retreat into the Light, 
as the Hours convene.
I cease to seek words in worlds,
as the hands of the
celestial clock meet in prayer.
Nay, I must seek the world within
each Word - Light, Life, Flow,

© 2016 Lily's Verse
Lilium Candidum

Artist: Andrew Judd

Saturday, 13 February 2016


I hear the warming land breathe
through the glowing Dawn.
Whimsical wind chimes hail 
wispy wraiths,
silver strands and white paths
echoing distant deep blue gyres.
My heart twirls upon 
childhood's cherished pathways,
with fallen leaves across the
flagstone walk airy genii
crowned with petal wreaths.
Here, far from an affectless world,
all would know eternal Love.
Upon Her skies I trace
the precession of Life's brilliant 
Celestial Pole,
Elysium's own vortex of Light,
cradle of the spark that kindles the
flame in the loam.
I, one of a sea of segmented spirits,
seeker of ages past, 
collector of questions, am lofted into
the ether upon Her winds.
In Her realm, words and starlight
build my spine,
pivot and anchor of my earthly circle
that shall remain rosy
with pulsing blood and awe, 
though the rest of my corpse change
into drab, fallow dust. 
I, one of Love's staffage, would map
the trajectory of Her hour.
Shall this Day be a poem, Aphrodite?
Would patterns and Beauty
worthy of your altar emerge from
my marrow and tears?
My doubts I lay to rest, great goddess.
I shall trust my memories of Truth.

© 2016 Lily's Verse
Lilium Candidum

Image: VENUS
Artist: Henri-Pierre Picou

Tuesday, 9 February 2016


Into a propitious battle I march,
invoking saints and sibyls,
assured of blessed vanquishment.
Ruination would not befall,
nor ignominy trail me;
I shall traverse silver-gold plains of
a depurating death
into a higher nascence,
surrendering shackles of inscience,
as Light stabs my inner eye.
Astral drums proclaim
my sacred bloodletting, the pain of 
a birthbed of thorns
lifting my being from disquiet
into the sanctum of the blazing blue
beam that cleaves
the shell of darkness enclosing
my spirit, that it may breathe
the atoms of mystics, 
their visions of Truth and Beauty that
prevail as tremulations
in the ether. My dreams of oblivion 
I shall consign to starlit pyres,
my languor to the rich muteness
of eternal shadows.

© 2016 Lily's Verse
Lilium Candidum

Artist: Michelangelo

Sunday, 7 February 2016


My graceless, unlearned palms cradle
a wrinkled white testament
to your journey, infolded as a nestling 
cleaving to its own feeble warmth.
I would will my roseate pulse into its
weightless curves and branches, 
decipher the Great Cartographer's 
handiwork that links 
your pathway to the Tree of Life.
I no more perceive the scars that recast
this implement of unfettered
rapture into one of voiceless restraint;
did fading lines and nodes
consume them with your breath?
Did you translate them onto parchment
and canvas, as you minimalised
your universes into words and vignettes,
seeking meaning in illusions,
setting Beauty free,
a gesture of detachment, sacred,
intimate as prayer?
Metaphors come alive through dead years,
your bequest to me,
your dreams and visions indelibly wrought
into my texture.
I shall immerse my spirit in the River of Life
that chronicles your days and nights
in a semi-secret script, esoteric knowledge,
twilight its sole adornment. 
What do you hold now in your fluttering
fingers, as Night swallows
the last light in your eyes, leading you
beyond earthly skies?
Commend these threads to us who would
tinge them in our Summers' vats.

© 2016 Lily's Verse
Lilium Candidum

Artist: Leonardo da Vinci

Wednesday, 3 February 2016


The mind of the senses measures Time,
seconds and minutes raining
hapless syllables and images in a dream,
in a dying world we seek to command.
Could breaths mark Time's course?
Does the air of Earth quaver in harmony
with the asomatous realm
of Origins and Conclusions that births
spirits from nothingness,
that thirsts to know the Light?
My heartbeats claimed the lucid wildness
of a newborn soul, weaving it
into a snare of blood, bone and warmth.

And I must unravel this fabric, scour its
interstices for the elemental pulse 
that hears the unspoken, 
speaks the unheard. Would I discern the 
music that evades me,
the primordial evocation that is
the tremor of the soul's thanksgiving?
Would it remain unfathomable,
mystical, a shadow of the transcendence
my highest being knew?

Voice and thought traverse upon the sage's
layered chanting, imploding 
into a profound inner violet-blue vastness.
The Word of Creation shines,
its soundless urging echoing through fibres
and spaces of my being.
"Dismember your pride, all that enshrouds
your essence. This human journey is
but a feast of illusion, yet, a stepping stone
to elevation through awareness.
Tread my eternal Path to Truth and Beauty,
divesting yourself of selfhood.
Let every falling fragment of your hull chime
your approach toward my abode,
that your kernel may glow with my Light."

© 2016 Lily's Verse
Lilium Candidum

Image: Fußsohlen eines Apostels
Artist: Albrecht Dürer 

Monday, 1 February 2016


I am Spring's infant heartbeat echoing
through Winter's retreating steps.

I am the Great Fire's secret gaze upon
His awakening Love,
the first flush of warmth in
His deepening Gold.

I am the rebirth of Creation's yearning, 
of hope's sublime scent
swaddling somnolent snowdrops. 

I am the Great Mother's smile
gliding upon the Season's golden wing,
anon to alight as a blossom 
upon Brighid's crown.

I am the thrum of Her spinning wheel,
the first green length wound
upon Her spindle.

I am the spark that flies upon Her arrow,
telling wordless tales
of the unnameable, stirring your wonder
anew, that you may meet
Nature with devotion in your heart and
gratitude upon your lips.

I am the light that disquiets every kernel,
invoking transformation and growth.

I am the peace that calms your questing,
questioning mind, bidding you tread
to the Great Wheel's rhythm.

I am the sacred Moment that enfolds all
who breathe in solidarity with Life.

© 2016 Lily's Verse
Lilium Candidum

Artist: Edward Burne-Jones