Flowers Make You Cry, songet Options

[Thoth]

Flowers Make You Cry

Take 2

A mountain gladiolus, like the sunrise,
held me in her passion years ago.
Her fiery kisses scorched my youthful heartstrings
till I cried.
Eventually I broke and let her go,

I found a lotus lily sadly wilted,
nursed her back to joy with tender play
then lost my soul within her mystic eyes
of north-sea cloud,
and died the day she took her love away.

A silver rose more lucid than the moonlight
remade my heart beneath a desert sky,
she fetched my soul and pointed me to life
beyond tomorrow -
but vanished when I turned to ask her why.

In evening light I see my battered life
on barren ground
with thistledown and nettles scattered round.

---------

Properties of the symbols;

* Though beautiful, wild glads are poisonous - deadly to the root.
* Lotus flowers intoxicate with a heady addictive essence. (a mind drug)
* The white rose is spiritually pure. ( the flower in S3 is actually an angel)
* Loyal thistledown, beneath the prickles gives comfort and warmth.
* Nettle (a healing herb)provides protection to those hardened to its stings.
Note: Both thistle and nettle are tough and can survive arduous conditions
-----------------------------------------------
take 1
A mountain gladiolus, like the sunrise,
held me in her passion years ago.
Her fiery kisses scorched my tender heartstrings
till I cried.
Eventually I broke and let her go,

I found a Celtic lily lost and wilted,
nursed her back to joy with tender play
then lost my soul within her mystic eyes
of north-sea cloud,
and died the day she took her love away.

A pale rose more lucid than the moonlight
found my heart beneath the desert sky,
she fetched my soul and pointed me to life
beyond tomorrow
but vanished when I turned to ask her why.

In evening light I see my battered life
on barren ground
with thistle down and nettles all around.
-

© WW Schwim 24 November 2009

[Mary Boren]

Oh my, Wally, this is absolutely divine. You write with wisdom born of pain, for which there is no shortcut or substitute. I really don't see how this could be any better.

At first I wasn't too keen on the title, but it grew on me. I take it you give "pale" two syllables, in which case your meter is impeccable. If I had any nit at all, it would be to wonder if the heartstrings could be something besides tender. It's the right word, of course, but the expected one, and repeated a couple of lines down. Fragile, maybe? I'm pretty sure thistledown is one word.

The interesting metrical pattern you've devised suits the subject perfectly. That second-line caesura makes me catch my breath in just the right place, and then slowly relax into the dreamy drawn-out line below with a wiggle in the tail before the axe falls in the fourth. Well done!

Hmmm ... what would it look like with those heptametric lines unbroken? I'm assuming you tried it both ways and made the better choice, but I still want to see for myself.

A mountain gladiola, like the sunrise,
held me in her passion years ago.
Her fiery kisses scorched my tender heartstrings till I cried.
Eventually I broke and let her go,

I found a Celtic lily lost and wilted,
nursed her back to joy with tender play
then lost my soul within her mystic eyes of north-sea cloud,
and died the day she took her love away.

A pale rose more lucid than the moonlight
found my heart beneath the desert sky,
she fetched my soul and pointed me to life beyond tomorrow
but vanished when I turned to ask her why.

In evening light I see my battered life on barren ground
with thistle down and nettles scattered round.