Umbra-shimmer of spring — my fever dream
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Boughs and pollen-tendrils — fluffèd cloud,
and aching sun and gentle kiss of wind,
and turn of wave of thought both sweet and rowd:
with fancies — to forever, now I send
my soul — my voice of ether-humming flesh.
My cornucopic panoply of ills —
and virtue-polished brilliant-shimm'ring mesh
of ignorance pandemic — and rare skills;
submit I now my all for All to thresh
as sink I slowly ever into murk.
Where screams the agate — wails the horrid jade;
cries the opal, sobs the tourmaline.
Where crackèd em'rald, foggèd ruby lurk
in nonexistent hells by fancy made
that revolute their chaos glamour gleam
and revel in their umbra-shining works.
Umbra-shimmer, fade — nay come to me!
Be with me forever, fever dream.
Begone and never stalk my hopes to see
in shadow of the love — forever-seemed
that echo — sang and wept its all, was freed:
from vessel, pain — poss'bility to bleed.
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original poetry, smartphone photography, and dividerscreated and compiled for HIVE — published April 12, 2021.
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Great poem and very nice pictures, it's nice to see the trees blooming.
Your level lowered and you are now a Dolphin!
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Poignant and timely!
I have recently seen quite a few nonexistent hells by fancy made. The possibility to bleed is what binds us all in this improbable sequence of random events.