An earlier writing of mine, taken from an archived post from my
this time..
Whilst they gather by the fire
beneath the crystal chandelier
smoke slips through and around them
Gramophone tunes ring dear
Floral wallpaper defines the room
champagne toasts given
Recalling past festive holidays
Recalling past festive holidays
when stardust fell from heaven
Where once waved a Parisian blue
scarf against her cheek
driving the winding road for a sea view
now a violet net shawl and chartreuse parakeet
On the mantel a padlocked gold box
where intriguing tales are kept
Scents of rain and burnt desire
No more anguish from within
...yet missing him
A man's corduroy hat hangs on an umbrella stand
the woolen black cloak in which she wept
Winds augur the season with a rasp
Sweet joys not sorrows
bring smiles to her Titian red lips at last
Hazel eyes play in the light of the room
She arises becominglyNo more anguish from within
...yet missing him
With a flair of bravura she waltzes freely
.... audaciously
by klr
Scents of rain and burnt desire
ReplyDeleteWinds augur the season with a rasp
Sweet joys not sorrows
bring smiles to her Titian red lips at last...i love how this one stanza jumps out because it touches all the senses.....and the freedom she finds in the end as well...
Thanks Brian - Maybe you can help or refer me to a solution for the word verification edit. I can't get an answer as to how to cancel it; am confused..?
DeleteYou capture that lost age of romanticism well--and it never really goes away, not in our DNA. Stately tone, but sharp and modern language--this all just clicks.
ReplyDeleteI'm glad and appreciate the comment very much..
DeleteThis paints such a clear picture of a goneby era. Nicely done.
ReplyDeleteYour vivid descriptions make it so I'm there watching the entire scene unfold. Starts out with a somber tone and ends with a flair--like that!
ReplyDeleteThanks, I'm glad you like it..
DeleteTakes me back to the Victorian age !!!
ReplyDeleteTruly love all of the details you included here...one of them being "Titian-red lips." Nice!
ReplyDeleteWhat I don't like though is the 'word verification.' I am about to TRY to post my comment now for the 4th time.
Mary, if you can help me learn how to remove it I'd be indebted...I don't know how to do it and thought I had, but I need help!
ReplyDeleteThanks,Rosemary..
ReplyDeleteI have a chartreuse parakeet!! And one a brighter yellow, both with blue throats.
ReplyDeleteDo you know the products of Victorian Papers? Not sure if that store is still around, a quick Google will tell. This post reminds me of their lovely stuff.
And this poem just kept getting amazinger and amazinger!
She arises becomingly, I did that once on stage in a dress that was half blue for a boy who has been 1 of my 3 Great Loves. In men, that is.
I also love cats, coffee, cotton candy and blogging!! :)
Yes, I know the magazine....l'm a sucker for vintage things...nice to meet people with similar veins of likes and dislikes. Thanks for stopping by, Jannie.
ReplyDeleteYes - the heart and memory gets stuck so often in a certain place. The music of the era played again and again. Here you take a woman who had a vivid life and lost it, and through the lovely details of her life you have her dance back to youth before our eyes. Charming!
ReplyDeleteKaty, this is charming and flows so beautifully. I was also taken back in time with this, very nice.
ReplyDeletePamela
I was struck by the line about the box where "intriguing tales are kept." That alone gave my imagination a jump-start... I love the ending as well... lovely poem.
ReplyDelete"burnt desire".... mmmmm. lovely, intricate piece.
ReplyDelete