Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
( sha-neen ) I am alone with you. A fire burns in the distance, It lights our faces As before in the empty cinema, Where we arrived, at some beginning, To watch a foreign film. Our eyes, In new utterance, murmuring subtitles, What words could never speak, The tips of seats, rows of air And the moony screen, A tableau of feathers and cloud, Two of us, alone, as one, Rapt in the spread of wings. Later, alone we dine in the Café Campagne. Our conversation Deafens a burgeoning crowd, Coffee was nectar, our words Were whispering petals. Dearest Blodeuwedd, I saw the sweetest Sorrow on your face, the green ocean In your eyes, I was cleansed By your tears. I have always Known you. Across the border on the far island, You stepped into the waters with me And when you disrobed you lit the stars And the stars and my eyes kissed your skin, Your slender legs, columns, tilting Toward heaven, in the age of Helen, Touched the water and the sky, I saw the milky way that night. Síneánn, I am your Pablo, We are two white birds sailing Over the foam of the sea. Solvent to my stone, you are the hinge To my casement world. Rain petal Voice, lithe, alabaster woman, I am lost in your Sargasso eyes, I hold your skin, my Selkie, Sweet Niamh, I have lived One hundred years this week. It is warm in the distance, In the country of the sun, We end at the house in Umbria, In the autumn, there is no word Siberia, my light Rosaleen. Now is harvest time. At the great table we feast With family and friends And I am not alone with you.
0
Dec 28, 2015
Dec 28, 2015 at 8:22 PM UTC
Síneánn
( sha-neen ) I am alone with you. A fire burns in the distance, It lights our faces As before in the empty cinema, Where we arrived, at some beginning, To watch a foreign film. Our eyes, In new utterance, murmuring subtitles, What words could never speak, The tips of seats, rows of air And the moony screen, A tableau of feathers and cloud, Two of us, alone, as one, Rapt in the spread of wings. Later, alone we dine in the Café Campagne. Our conversation Deafens a burgeoning crowd, Coffee was nectar, our words Were whispering petals. Dearest Blodeuwedd, I saw the sweetest Sorrow on your face, the green ocean In your eyes, I was cleansed By your tears. I have always Known you. Across the border on the far island, You stepped into the waters with me And when you disrobed you lit the stars And the stars and my eyes kissed your skin, Your slender legs, columns, tilting Toward heaven, in the age of Helen, Touched the water and the sky, I saw the milky way that night. Síneánn, I am your Pablo, We are two white birds sailing Over the foam of the sea. Solvent to my stone, you are the hinge To my casement world. Rain petal Voice, lithe, alabaster woman, I am lost in your Sargasso eyes, I hold your skin, my Selkie, Sweet Niamh, I have lived One hundred years this week. It is warm in the distance, In the country of the sun, We end at the house in Umbria, In the autumn, there is no word Siberia, my light Rosaleen. Now is harvest time. At the great table we feast With family and friends And I am not alone with you.
Blodeuwedd is the Welsh Goddess of spring created from flowers. In the late Christianized myth, She was created by the great magicians Math and Gwydion to be Lleu's mate, in response to a curse pronounced by his mother that he would never have a wife from any race then on the Earth. They fashioned Blodeuwedd from flowers and breathed life into Her. In Welsh, blodeuwedd, meaning "Flower-face", is a name for the owl. She represents temporary beauty and the bright blooming that must come full circle through death: She is the promise of autumn visible in spring. Pronunciation: bluh DIE weth ("th" as in "weather") Alternate spellings: Blodeuedd, Blodewedd. Selkies (also known as silkies or selchies) are mythological creatures found in Faroese,Icelandic, Irish, and Scottish folklore. The word derives from earlier Scots selich, (from Old English seolh meaning seal). Selkies are said to live as seals in the sea but shed their skin to become human on land. The legend apparently originated on the Orkney and Shetland Islands and is very similar to those of swan maidens. .
ormond
Written by
Irish
Dec 28, 2015
Dec 28, 2015 at 8:22 PM UTC
Request permission to use this poem