Delicate, graceful honey locust tree
jeweled in jade as if Orient-made
thorn-pierced I came and wearily
sick of sun and parched for shade.
Faithful, silent honey locust tree
binding the burns that words had done
constantly and steadily
easing the sting of a dream undone.
Summer's darling, the honey locust tree
July and August's waving dancer
when asked to say that you cared for me
dipped in the dark but gave no answer.
Yellowing honey locust tree
not so constant after all
your chill-bared arms revealed to me
the twisting thorns that pierced the fall.
_________
for desperate poets--"woe my spurs; desperate elegies." I have used the spurs above.
Music: Larkin Poe Day Tripper
Ah, this is lovely. "...easing the sting of a dream undone....." That line speaks to me. Just beautiful writing.
ReplyDelete"jeweled in jade as if Orient made". I like that internal rhyme and "easing the sting of a dream undone". As Sherry says "beautiful writing"... a pleasure to read. JIM
ReplyDeleteLike the rose, this honey locust is alluring and fragrant but embrace it overlong at one's peril. What to do when intimacy flares so and yet is hostile underneath? It's like naming your dog Go - "Come here, Go," "Stay, Go." A maddening itch. Seasons alternating so. Such a powerful argument for pets over people. This elegy gorgeously writ and lushly lorn.
ReplyDeleteThe spirit of the form is very alive here, showing all its strengths in the insistent yet smooth cadence. As always, I love it when you rhyme, and here every match is bittersweet. Your metaphor is spotless, vividly portraying the pitfalls of mistaking the temporary for the permanent , and the puncture wounds that result. Brilliant writing. Horticultural sidenote: back in the 20th century, honey locusts were proposed as a street tree in urban areas because they tolerate soil compaction and pollution, but proved to be a problem because of the thorns. Attempts have been made to breed a thornless variety, with mixed success. The ones I planted for the City years ago are all long gone. I hated working with them.
ReplyDeleteLove lost ... I sense it vividly in your poem. A beautiful write, Shay.
ReplyDeleteEric here. “Parched for shade”, brilliant. And those trees are mean with compound thorns!
ReplyDeleteThe rhyme and inner flowings of meaning are simply gorgeous Shay!
ReplyDeleteOooh! Thorns as "spurs" - brilliant. One of your quiet but deeply vibrant poems.
ReplyDeleteThis was me.
DeleteLove the dark nursery rhyme feels in this poem, Shay :) Like Joy, you always make "dark" beautiful. I especially love the imagery and rhythm in the third stanza.
ReplyDelete