There was no one but the black-eyed susans
To see her thighs so smooth and strong
Her feet so lost
And her heart so broken
As she gave herself, a wafer,
On the tongue of the shrouded water.
Fog was a mercy,
Or the turning-away of god
In the memory it both brought and obscured
Of love within reach--
Two girls and the early morning.
Where was I?
Where was anyone, when the water fanned her dark hair like a lover's fingers?
There are mornings,
When I am struck scalding blind,
Deaf without body or blood,
Without lover, without sister,
Without anything but the black-eyed susans
And the foggy invitation of the water's depths.
_______________________________________
O, a deep river of a poem this is
ReplyDeleteshayfire, herself, a wafer ...tongue on shrouded water,
...fog was a mercy...and on...A
haunting poem of love lost written
like a sha-woman whose spells
are useless, whose vulnerability
she can't stop.
It's nice, deep and meaningful well done!
ReplyDeleteThanks you, both Cynthia and Arts & P.
ReplyDeleteI keep returning to this subject, I guess I just don't know what to do with it except to write these Chokecherry poems.
Your poetry is beautiful, soulful, and mysterious and powerful... all the best qualities of feminine grace. Forgive me for being sappy, but I just love your writing.
ReplyDeleteThere is certainly nothing to forgive! I'm glad you enjoy what I create, and I really loved your comment here.
ReplyDeleteBtw, I've added Dark Star Discovery as one of the blogs I "follow." :-)
Wow what a poem. This is very deep and powerful. I love your site and black eyed susans.
ReplyDeletelove-bd
Thank you, bd! I love your blog as well. :-)
ReplyDeleteVery beautiful images again Fireblossom, I am thinking of pre Rapahaelite paintings, those women with flowing manes, something controlled and strong, yet also fluid and vulnerable at the same time in their liquid eyes; Rossetti's "Beata"? I love reading you, it makes me long for my muse who has -temporarily- gone awol:)
ReplyDeleteMmm, I love those paintings. Gabriel's paintings and Christina's poems!
ReplyDeleteI don't like dry spells, but they seem to go with the territory, don't they? Hopefully you'll be writing up a storm in the near future. Your readers certainly hope so!
Thanks so much for your very kind words, Wordcrafter!
Beautiful, straight from the soul.
ReplyDeleteThanks, Tracey-Ann. I'm partial to this one, so I'm glad to hear you liked it, too. :-)
ReplyDeleteI saw your poem link posted on Poets United and really enjoyed it. An absolutely stunning poem, flling with images and emotion.
ReplyDelete(I will be sending you an invitation to my blog...so you can visit it as well..wath for it from blogger.)
the first two lines...had me ...I wanted a novel after that...wonderful, wonderful image of a woman with so much to tell....I am never disappointed with my visits here...bkm
ReplyDeleteAnother poet from Poets United, saw the link in the pantry, and I must say that this is a really awesome piece. Deep and insightful. Great post!
ReplyDelete-Weasel
a poem with a lot of depth in your writing - and my favorite line is ..when the water fanned her dark hair like a lover's fingers...an "off-moment"
ReplyDeletewell, i don't know what to say. great poem ( maybe to great for me)
ReplyDeletePowerful, powerful poem! "wafer on the tongue of the shrouded water" - amazing! I especially admire "there are mornings when I am struck bline without anything but the black-eyed susans". Wow.
ReplyDeleteFireblossom, you have a beautiful blog; and you really seem to be in tune with the flowers. Black-eyed Susans ARE striking! And even moreso through your poem.
ReplyDeleteAs beautiful a poem it was I can't help but be stuck with the image of Ophelia floating in the lake. I always enjoy reading your work. Your imagery is just spectacular. Thank you for sharing.
ReplyDelete