Tableau 4: The Melting of the Ice
Spring-clean, fresh
dressed in flannelette
and floral,
the Snow Queen pales
against her pillow.
Limb-tidy, quiet
in a final contemplation,
seeing neither near nor far
though knowing earth beneath a primal sky
will be the regal destination.
The King rests
gathers strength
we linger
balm for breakfast
windows open
letting snow depart
in spiral.
In golden mourn, lilies sing
of innocence beyond,
and line by line
letting go
kaleidoscopic tableaux of emotion
lay to rest
in hymn, divine.
In sibling texts
a reassuring x remains;
we see each other more
than just at Christmas.
Laura Taylor
Mon 24th Aug 2015 12:20
Hiya Stu - sorry for the delay, busy weekend! Thank you so much :)
I think it's amazing that you've pulled all that out of the pieces. Isn't interpretation a wonderful thing?
It doesn't seem wrong to say 'well done' at all - you know why? Because although you may see me as an 'established poet', each new poem is in no way guaranteed to work, or be any good at all. I approach each one with nervous anticipation. I never really know if they'll be any good until I reach a certain point with them, the internal tickle that says 'oh yehhh, now that feels good'. Until that point it's still a thousand lines of shit :D
Nice one on the gig!! Get you eh - singing!