This week the erstwhile driver of the Poetry Bus, TFE, of
The People's Lost Republic of EEjit, has turned bus driving duties over to dear blog friend Terresa, of
The Chocolate Chip Waffle. Terresa has posted this picture prompt, an intriguing photo from photographer Keith Carter, whose website you may visit by clicking on the photo caption ... but please not before reading my humble, moon-besotted offering below.
Aubade
I float in drops of onyx dew
spied by cherubs
maundering from warped walls
pink petals twitch on laurelled brows
in the abiding eclipse
her rose fingers clasp the torch
and in the streaming silence
light an ember in the stygian night
she guides the chariot that pulls me
from the deep ink of sleep
and dissolves the clouded dreams
that ride her golden cape
there is something ethereal that is enduring about this...and maybe overtly sensual...may she wake you nicely...
ReplyDeleteHi, Brian. Actually she couldn't let me get to sleep, but, yes, she is Aurora goddess of the dawn. Have a beautiful day.
ReplyDeleteThis is, as Brian states, ethereal, and yes, sensual...lovers separating at dawn.
ReplyDeleteThis poem fills me, saddens me, has me thinking of Gustav Klimt and his female filled portraits in golden capes...
Mythology is magic ~ as is your Magpie!
ReplyDeleteThe word aubade is one of the treasures of our language.
ReplyDeleteI like "the clouded dreams
that ride her golden cape"
If you can't sleep, at least she sounds like a soft companion. I am not so positive about dawn when I haven't slept. :|
Maundering was a new one for me - it fits well. Lovely assonance pulling you out of the dream world
ReplyDeletewickedgood!!! steven
ReplyDeleteSwing low, sweet chariot!
ReplyDeleteMy, this is quite the spicy little poem! Just beautiful, Lorenzo.
ReplyDeleteLike a journey to another land, or state of being. Beautiful language and word choice.
ReplyDeleteLorenzo
ReplyDeleteYou are the consummate ethereal dreamer being nudged gentle but urgent with a call to awaken by milady's beautiful 'golden cape dissolving the clouded dreams' to create and live a life that awakens the poet within the dreamer . . .
Joanny
I don't know why but whilst reading your poem I kept thinking of Shakespeare's A Midsummer Night's Dream. I think the final stanza does it for me
ReplyDeleteshe guides the chariot that pulls me
from the deep ink of sleep
and dissolves the clouded dreams
that ride her golden cape
So rich and thick - the deep ink of sleep
A stirring, mysterious, and beautiful poem, Lorenzo. I have read it several times now, and each reading yields some wonderful new image.
ReplyDeleteSumptuous!
ReplyDelete'maundering from warped walls' is a great line too.
Beautiful use of language.
Lorenzo, I love the last stanza especially!
ReplyDeleteNo exploding ballerina?
ReplyDeleteMind you it would have ruined the loveliness of your poem.
Beautiful. I love the images, but I am also in love with the sound of the words like: "maundering from warped walls
ReplyDeletepink petals twitch on laurelled brows"
That just flows in a wonderful, dreamy way. The poem matches the picture beautifully, too. I enjoyed it very much!
So many nice comments from everyone. Thanks a bunch. I am pressed for time and can't answer comments individually as I would like to. The poem tries to capture the feeling of Aurora bringing the dawn and pulling me out of sleep and dreams. A bit fictional, because I still cannot remember my dreams. I'll keep working on them!
ReplyDeleteI've read it a few times,
ReplyDeleteit's stirring and haunting and I love it.
Wow, Lorenzo! I've been missing so much by not visiting you lately. This was stunning! The last verse is gorgeous!
ReplyDeleteKat