Jan 23, 2012

Chrysanthemum Girl

I only write poetry when I feel inspired.

I was inspired over Christmas. This one I wrote for Simon, who wanted to put beautiful music to it.


Somewhere between the mountains
And the bed that I have made
I have found a place to lay my head
And forget the comfort of your shade
Where the children with the chalk
Draw your eyes into my dream
Where I cannot walk
Where I cannot scream.
It is where the sidewalk ends
and the cold winds advise, 
And the children with the chalk
Scratch life into our eyes. 
Dusty hope and vertigo lend
Our petrified gazes to lock:
See our astonished reflections,
See your petals in the rock.
They drew your face on hardened earth
Green and gold and rose transcend
To flowers of an afterthought
And inside my soul suspends.
A crooked grin and aspirations
To have you and to hold.
And to be satisfied with what you cannot give
And with what I cannot behold.
Somewhere between the mountains
And the bed that I have made
I have found a place to lay my head
And forget the comfort of your shade
Where the children with the chalk
Draw your eyes into my dream
Where I cannot walk
Where I cannot scream.
Forgetting that I need you
The pride resigned by grief
The storm comes forth and raises 
Reality against belief.
Blink back the glassy tears
that erode apart your soul.
Until the rain washes you away
My Chrysanthemum Girl.



Chrysanthemums are important to me. They were on the coffin of my grandfather when he passed away several years ago. I remember them being in the garden. I remember autumn mums in our own garden. I always knew the seasons were changing when the autumn mums started popping up in our gardens - beautiful fiery red and golden petals that mimicked maples.

Word of the Day: Counter-productive

Quote of the Day: Awake my soul.

1 comment:

The dB family said...

Beautiful!! I hope you get inspired more often :o).

Blessings!
Deborah