ACHROMATIC

In death, you spoke your loudest ever,
mother, in crystal clear tones
devoid of your timeless, threadbare
timorousness.

Thenceforth, I live a waking dream in
black and white, every colour in
me petrified into a vast frozen ocean. 

Not all silence is golden; yours cast
an ineffaceable leaden
shroud on my soul, its every particle 
bears the weight of the
Universe.

Light and breath turn away in sorrow
from its ashen presence,
this spectre in a now wonted state of
flux, moulding itself to
your distant whispers. Yes, you make
yourself heard.

I now stand at the edge of everything
I do, of all I have ever done,
as a storm in slow motion engulfs me,
its grand greyness enmeshed
with my soulscape.

The mysteries of pain occupy all that
remains of me, its elastic
expanses and yielding shores.
This is my sole earthly mission; I seek
to fathom the only gift you
didn't begrudge me.

© 2015 Lily's Verse

Lilium Candidum

Image: www.johnwilliamwaterhouse.com
Artist: John William Waterhouse

AWAKENING

Faerie blooms, Candlemas bells,

daughters of the returning

Sun's first rays, early Spring's 

nascent glow you hold,

the first whispers of Her longing.

Soft as a babe's breath you emerge

from the frosty Great Below,

clothed in Winter's pure white gold,

crowned with hope's verduous

jewels, heads bowed in reverence to

this sacred Awakening.

With Her niveous tints painted, o'er

her luminous canvas a misty

veil you cast, that she may, now

vanquished, retreat unperceived 

into Time's ancient womb.

Angels' tapers, shower your gentlest

beams 'pon fair Persephone's

path, in tenderest hues clad 

her advent hail, ere Springtide's glory

sets Nature ablaze, ere her

vibrant, perfumed vesture blinds and

befuddles all Creation.

© 2015 Lily's Verse

Lilium Candidum

Image: FAIR MAIDS OF FEBRUARY
Source: www.pinterest.com
Artist: John Atkinson Grimshaw

CROCUS

Thou winsome youth, ill-fated mortal,
beloved of Smilax,
dearest companion of the gods'
winged Messenger,
didst thou yearn to soar
thro' Elysian fields as he?

Did thy blighted spirit glide 'pon great
Hermes' discus,
ere it struck thy brow,
spilled thy life blood,
robbed thee of breath, of life's bloom?

By grief undone, he, divine bearer of
the herald's staff,
ordained thee the harbinger of rebirth,
of hope renewed,
that thou wouldst foretoken
Persephone's advent.

In eternal life art thou earthbound still.
Yet, thou wearest Elysium's
dearest hues, for thy chalice Maia's
child laved in celestial oceans.
Thy earthly essence, vermilion of his
deep dolour, dwelleth in thy heart.

Thou first note of Spring's sparkling
verset deep in Earth's womb,
surge thro' Winter's waning cadences, 
thro' her argent spread,
for to drink deep of crystal skies!

© 2015 Lily's Verse

Lilium Candidum

Image: www.charlotteangles.com

QUIETUS

She was not Dido, nor was she Juliet;
Ophelia's opulent retreat
set to her own grand death song was
an affront to her taste.

She favoured a soundless exit, weary
of pretense of strength
and worth, of hoping against hope that
the act would bring forth shades
of all she so fervently wished were true. 

Yes, it did lend her inutile motion grace,
a semblance of life, though
the serene light of a silent death glowed
in her eyes; the comfort of a
spectral tide's whelming buoyed her up,
its wordless pledge her sole
egress from barren spaces thick with
empty spirants and sightless souls.
 
Still, she left her smile upon every flower,
at times insensible of her
superfluousness. Earth wears them now;
She would not spurn what
to human eyes seemed flawed, wanting.

Go forth, my beloved sister, into the one
Garden where Spring forever
reigns, into the sole refuge that awaits all
with fragrant arms outstretched.

© 2015 Lily's Verse

Lilium Candiidum

Image: YOUNG WOMAN WITH A DOVE

Source: www.liveinternet.ru

Artist: Charles Joshua Chaplin

MEMORIES

'Rubbish'?!

Short.

Sharp.

Would that you could see
the festering wounds that
fuel my pulse, 
animate the very smiles 
that conceal them....

Still, I would not disabuse
you of your notions, for
your spirit has need
of them.

Your words fill your silence;
never will they slide
into sacred spaces where
Truth resides.

I shall wear them
as dark adornments upon 
the black shroud 
of memories that mantles 
this living corpse
claiming only enough
breath to nourish the
anguish that is 
its purpose.

 May these memories, 
each one stabbing my
being to the rhythm of my
transgressor's heart,
merge into the recesses 
of purgatory.

Yes, they have fulfilled
their duty towards us both.

This is my prayer for you:
May you never breathe a
day with pain like mine
under your skin.

© 2015 Lily's Verse

Lilium Candidum

Image: THE SOUL'S PRISON HOUSE
Source: www.the-athenaeum.org
Artist: Evelyn de Morgan

VIOLET EYES

'Pon an early spring by a budding birch,
as a thrush sang 'pon her leafy perch,
'neath fairy skies of palest blue,
there I first 'spied the wonder of you.

'Twas as though the sun your tresses had spun,
your cheek the rose for its own had won,
my gaze 'pon your violet eyes fell,
the envy of blooms in wood and dell.

Your maiden stance held the promise of spring,
hope and joy to my soul did it bring,
as bluebells into wreaths you wrought,
your sunshine laughter the wov'n bands caught.

Ev'ry word you uttered blossomed and glowed,
an Angel's smile 'pon all you bestowed,
as infants you caressed I knew,
all the wise said of Heaven was true.

Your blithesome tune, pride of ev'ry songbird,
my spirit to greatest rapture stirred,
fair Muse, by one and all admir'd
a fledgling poet's first verse inspir'd.

Anon a youth thro' the woods trudging came,
his ardent aspect held passion's flame,
a flower'd crown you placed 'pon his head,
this swain that summer promised to wed.

Tho' young and old your espousal did cheer,
my tender heart broke your troth to hear,
for another your love had claimed,
fortune her favoured children had named.

Your nuptials summer with her bounty graced,
choicest hues the woodland chapel laced,
gaily you danced, a gleeful dame,
yet, foreboding my heart overcame.

As the seasons went by my sorrow healed,
glad bells and solemn o'er the land pealed,
in verse my ardour I confessed,
worship unreturned my quill had blessed.

Soon, wealth and renown my solitude crowned,
nor joy nor comfort in such I found,
violet eyes sparkled in my dreams,
by their radiance I filled endless reams.

Now, by their cold light I mourn words unsaid,
your colours lie strewn 'pon the riv'r bed,
Nature weeps, e'en songbirds are still,
for one so gentle was used so ill.

'Mid violets I rove, your laughter I hear,
as your loving kin prepare your bier,
in wood and dell my Muse I see,
how, pray, could I pen your elegy?

© 2015 Lily's Verse

Lilium Candidum

Image: APRIL LOVE
Source: commons.wikimedia.org
Artist: Arthur Hughes

ORPHEUS

Sing to us mortals, o Son of Calliope,

thou, whose throat the gods

touched with silver 'neath Elysium's

brightest rays. Marry thy fair

mother's verse afresh with sacred

strains of mighty Apollo's 

golden lyre, for Earth's children thirst

to revel in Parnassus' delights, in her

celestial airs and verdant splendour.

Our souls have need of thine ardency,

great minstrel, thou blight

of the sirens, beloved of the ill-starred

Eurydice. How the Nymphs

and deities wept thine anguished cant

to hear! Did not thy melodies 

soften the heart of Hades himself, thy

honeyed tones the Erinyes

cause to shed bitterest tears?  

Pour 'pon our parched spirits thy river

of mystical notes that once

stopped the wind and waters, charmed

birds and beasts, subdued

Cerberus! Did not raindrops cling fast to

leaves, sole for thy refrains 

athirst, for beauty the clouds extolled to

the moon, to distant stars? 

Bestow 'pon us such artistry as once the

elements gathered to savour,

for earthly words and tunes have ceased

to move man's spirit. He speaks

not Nature's tongue, nor lives by his own

inmost light. Sing to us, Orpheus,

with the voices of the sea, wind, earth and

fire, that we may stir to life anew,

that we may live

in blissful accord with all Creation.

© 2015 Lily's Verse

Lilium Candidum

Image: NYMPHS LISTENING TO THE SONGS OF ORPHEUS

Source: commons.wikimedia.org

Artist: Charles François Jalabert