Evening Primrose

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Portrait of sadness by Agnieszka Lorek

Before the light of day
slips behind the moon
the maple tree glows red,
In tendrils of spidery webs
my fingers caress the earth,
Overcome by
the delicate aroma of evening primrose,
blossoms exposed on dusk.
The warmth of the sun fading –
the cool air weighs
heavily around my shoulders,
the lace shawl a slip across my vulnerability.
The beetles scuttle across the grass below,
Searching for a place to call their own.
I, a shapeless shadow,
disguised by the comfort of night
white stargazer lilies
upon the burial site,
a stagnant boulder
my eyes aching in
fits of weeping,
red rimmed and creasing,
hysteria took my heed.
Taken to the ground
my tears and
all my days gone,
Dawdling,
an ancient story
buried below,
Untold,
Goodbye my love.
Unfold my limbs across
our final resting place
Under the sun and
Clouded night.

I’ll lie with you all my days.

J.CALVERT 2016

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6 thoughts on “Evening Primrose

  1. One divine thread
    Upon your precious head,
    Rarely in such stead
    Could stars have burned
    And destinies turned,
    Aflame and spurned
    Like shooting stars
    Searing light’s scars
    On the awestruck afars
    Of each waxing sky
    Twinkling with the cry
    Of the great unspent Why;
    The reasons unknown
    In the beauty we are shown
    And the life we disown
    As threads glint and flutter
    In the promises we utter
    In our hearts’ trembling stutter
    At crossroads of great choices,
    Loud competing voices
    In fate’s discordant noises,
    Racing through airspace
    A semblance, a mere trace
    Of a longed-for face,
    And the little thread of light,
    Reaching across the night,
    Whispering what is right,
    Little thread.

    Like

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