"The Lady Of Shallot"
....tragic intrigue.
Beneath the falling emerald mists
Of lilies painted tones of forest green, and
The hesitating eyes of
Virgin-white summer,
She sits, her head perched
Upon the edge of a dream.
A simple wreath adorns her head, an angelic peacefulness
Inspiring contempt for another crown;
The lace bouquet of a lover betrayed,
Another idealised.
Left upon the willows, she weeps,
Diamond tears close to her heart
And priceless jewels strewn upon copper hair,
Blades of grass and twigs of straw,
Much like Ophelia
Gone mad through the eyes of hopeless love
And sharp, unrelenting pragmatism.
Beneath a fading sapphire sky, and
Red-orange leaves of inevitable autumn promises
Turned violent with lust and betrayal,
There is only the promise of peace,
Unrelenting quietude of the heart.
Hopelessness fades beneath the strangling clasp
Of yellow parchment and lily-white hands,
Perched against a heart which forever resounds
Upon the turquoise curtain of eternity,
Eyes lifted heavenward, a vain attempt to gaze upon another
Who shall forever mourn
In shadows.