Cold and clear – cut face
why come you so cruelly meek.
Breaking a slumber in which all
spleen fully was drowned,
pale with the golden beam of an eyelash
dead on the cheek.
Passionless, pale cold face star – sweet on
Womanlike, taking revenge too deep for a
Done but in thought to your beauty, and
ever as pale as before -
Growing and fading and growing upon me
Luminous, gem like, ghost like and death like!
Half the night long.
Growing and fading, and growing till I could
bear at it not a second more,
but arose and all by myself in my own dark
dark garden ground tried to shout out!
Listening now to the tide in its broad – flung
Now to the scream of a maddened beach
dragged down by the waves.
Walked in a wintry wind by a ghastly
glimmer then found…
The shining daffodils dead, along with
Orion low in his grave.
Written by B R Walker
Copywriter UK 16 December 2017