Holly Blue

By Silver Spun Sand

Sun, 19 Apr 2015
  • 1066 reads
4 comments
 
Spring’s hedgerows; blossoming brambles
and white nettles, await your kiss;
 
purple seas of love-in-a-mist, meadow vetch,
and sweet, forget-me-nots, pucker their lips, moist  
with honeydew which you craved.
 
They wait in vain. You will not visit them again,
and if they could, they would surely ask you this.
 
By whose hand were you ravaged?
Who prized apart your diaphanous wings
pinned you to a board?
 
You, who would have longed to fold those wings
as a paper plane – be spirited away on death’s 
forgiving breath, were it not for your sin; 
that of loveliness.
 
You, who are Freedom’s envoy; 
beauty...crucified.
Certificate PG
Poem
Silver Spun Sand Poems
Nature
Inspiration Point (work that responds to our weekly writing cue)

Comments

Submitted by Philip Sidney on

Names of flowers are so beautiful, contrasts well with the horror that follows.  i've got a beautiful dead butterfly on my table, found it dead, horrible to have it because it is dead, but it is so beautiful, dilemma.

Submitted by Silver Spun Sand on

I know exactly what you mean, Philip.  Excellently put.

Tina

 

Submitted by Rhiannonw on

Before there was such ease of photography, I suppose the displays did thrill people to see the detail, but now we are spoilt for photographs and hopefully fewer are killed before their time. Rhiannon

 

Submitted by Silver Spun Sand on

Couldn't agree with you more, Rhiannon.  We can but live in hope.

Tina