Often we heard her whisper clad in tulle apparel;
“Be sword so as to shield the sliding drops of peril.”
The monks who lone observed chant in Greek and Latin;
Their looks were burning slow leaving behind a pattern.
Her dark and beauteous locks blew seldom in the breeze;
And miles she walked upto were ninety five most at ease.
Her heart as though of robin was beating hard and slow;
The air so thick with grief was due to breathing woe.
Upon her grave she offered flowers of cyan blue
That gave the hint of heaven more odor than hue.
Photo credits: www.desktopwallpapers4.me
Posted for Poetics @ dVerse Poets Pub
32 Responses
I love how you blended the Thistle into this… it works so well into that sad tale…
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Heavens. This is just gorgeous.
Especially:
“Be sword so as to shield the sliding drops of peril.”
{especially as “sword” means “pen” to me, always.} 😉
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A fascinating story. Enjoyed this a lot.
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That image!!!
“Be sword so as to shield the sliding drops of peril.”
“Their looks were burning slow leaving behind a pattern.”
I love that her hair ISN’T blowing in the breeze. It must be very heavy. Too heavy to be moved about by the wishes of air.
“Her heart as though of robin was beating hard and slow” … Yes.
“Upon her grave she offered flowers” … I LOVE that she’s putting flowers on her own grave. That’s how I read it, anyway. Of course, she could also be putting flowers on the grave of a child, mother, sister, etc. But I really like it being her own grave. And the fact that no one else is there to mourn her. Only she is mourning her own death. She was that alone in life.
This is an insanely good story, Sanaa. I love ghost poetry. 🙂
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Ghost, specter, spirit, or mythos, a dark, mysterious tale, brimming with beautiful sadness; very well done. Thanks for stopping by my blog; smile.
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I love this chilling tale, laced with sadness and beauty. And I love that you left us with the lingering scent of heaven…
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I love that line about the monks chanting Greek and Latin. Such an interesting choice that adds depth to the poem.
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There is something of mystery, even mysticism in this for me. Very evocative.
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Heartfelt and the ending line are so touching.
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It’s a mix of early century ruggedness and a newer present day rural setting….
love the cyan blue flowers and the heavy beating of the robin’s heart…sad journey or life.
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A wispery, solemn, mystical tale, beautifully written.
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This is beautiful. I especially love the closing stanza that was so unexpected and yet not surprising at all, if that makes any sense. The incongruity of one putting flowers on their own grave is brilliant. Peace, Linda
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“The air so thick with grief was due to breathing woe.”
Beautifully penned, I especially loved this line.
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“Her dark and beauteous locks blew seldom in the breeze.” Such an effective line. The limpness of her beautiful hair says so much.
And the last line is just a perfect closing to this melancholic poem.
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Upon her grave she offered flowers..this haunting character walks still….hair not blowing. I can feel her spirit moving here…beautifully penned.
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Sad, yet colorful.
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