Saturday, April 8, 2006

Ghostly Lover

A wild flowers wreath
Upon waving gold
Catches his glimpse
Makes him jealous
His wrath tears his heart
His mind courts with the inevitable
Never before has he hated so
Never before has he adored so
His hands touch emptiness
His cry flies on silken roses
By the lake
Beneath bending birches
He recalls shadowy eyes
Flaming lips like glorious petals
Pale hands like poisonous birds
In the deep forest
He seeks for the ghostly lover
The lady of his soul
In the cradle of water lilies he
Falls into merciless dreams
And from the greenish emeralds
Under the moonlight she rises
For him alone
Playing the harp harmoniously
Singing a lullaby
Weaving his hair in an eternal
And never ending stillness
Pulling him
In her deep
Turquoise sleep
For ever.

(2006) © Lucy


dr.Uqbar said...


Loreley-lucyluce said...

Too dark huh? Calm down, it's a metaphore! Τι μ' έπιασε με τα αγγλικά??? :-)

Anula said...

στα αγγλικα μου αρεσουν πιο πολυ εμενανΕ

Loreley-lucyluce said...

Αν σού πω κι εμέναΝΕ, anula? Πολλές καινοτομίες μου εμπνέει αυτός ο blogger! Την καταβρίσκω!

Anula said...

αλλαξα γνώμη, τα ελληνικά με εμπνεουν πιο πολύ:-) παθαινω και εγω κρισεις αγγλοπληξίας

Loreley-lucyluce said...

Όπως μούρθει εμένα, πάντως στ' αγγλικά μού βγαίνει σε πιο ρομαντικό!