faces, door, naked, lack,
candlelight, imaginary, hiding, held, scurries, under, birth, root.
Preferring candlelight to
sun, she went down,
away from the angry faces,
underground,
where the constant earth
cradles her.
Roots and leaves
cover her naked curves.
She scurries out
in the half light
to leave offerings
by the door
of herbs, roots, seeds
in exchange for her needs-
candle stubs, matches.
Little does she lack.
The birth of Spring will
bring
her out of hiding.
When the cuckoo calls
across the wooded valley,
her imaginary chains will fall,
her imaginary chains will fall,
she will soar,
she will bloom and roar.
Her wild spirit
finally free.
wow! love it!
ReplyDeleteThis was almost like an old fairy tale book illustration, so easily visualized. 'Scurries' was fine where you put it but rather than "out" I would have used "about" which seems to fit the mood better.
ReplyDeleteoh yes. Nice one. thanks for that suggestion. Thanks for reading it. :)
DeleteI got some very strong images while reading this poem. In the beginning, she reminded me of a roach. I think that it was her scurrying in the dark. By the end though, I picture a sprout, which was nicer for me...I hate roaches. I think that the change starts when she is excanging rather than stealing. Anyway, I probably projected way too much onto your really lovely poem, but it was a neat experience for me, I enjoyed it.
ReplyDeleteI think owt is more poetic... But still haven`t figured wot animal it is, if it is anything particular... but it would make a nice 5 minute film, that last all winter.. ;)
ReplyDeleteHad tp prove i`m not a robot !
Delete