Reminiscence [part Iv] Poem by Lum Chabot

After precious daughter put to sleep
He made sure daughter’s soul to keep
In complete safety in midst of silken lunes
Father and mother each left a plume
To keep Charlotte warm down to the bone
Her infant presence ne’er truly alone,
And then he went with wife to lay
Down to rest after frightful day.

He carried her down familiar path
To escape to bed, from daemon’s wrath,
And laid her down in comfortable bed,
His countenance resting just behind her head,
Arms wrapped around such perfect waist
But wished to remain until special day chaste;
Instead opened his mouth to say,
“Oh my darling, how did you get this way? ”

And she replied, “What ever do you mean?
I have a life of love, devoid the obscene.”
He thought then about what he inquired
And about the daughter he had sired,
And said, “That may be true,
But you had to die to get this view.
All I wish to know my dear,
Is how you came to be ‘ere here.”

She ponderously thought and sought
For long forsook memories left to rot
In silhouette of the past, naught
But lessons understood, by mother not
And gathered all her thoughts by happiness forgot.

“Well I’ll tell you a story, the one of my life,
Before times when I became your wife,
I was born to loving parents in small town,
Though forgot now, first days did pleasure abound.
But parental attention not easily found, and alone
Did I keep, until I could with friends could I be on my own,
When I aged somewhat, and could finally affection understand,
But near father would be, quietly with firebrand.

Friends I made and kept good company,
For a while it was just them and me,
And village games we did invent,
Games that caused my parents’ lament
For their precious daughter might sometimes be harmed,
And guardians might raise their arms
To petty games we did for fun create,
To live and love without debate.

But soon parents were forced to leave
To seek from persecution reprieve,
But move and move again they did,
And daughter’s pain then did not understand; she hid,
For when they finally stopped to rest,
She simply had siblings left,
And though she loved her family dear,
To strict parents’ rules she’d not adhere.

Out to the forest she’d go to play
And through fields of dead leaves she in imagination slain,
Down she’d sit, on parapets higher than the veins
Of water that coursed the earthly display,
The cuts from thorns haunted her way.

She aged and made new friends that bade
Her every seconds’ attention to wade
Into sallow memories and find ancient keys
To these once great doors besieged by seas
Of trees that wished to reclaim
Brothers and sisters lost in pursuit of fame,
And kept these friends into her teens,
When on their affection she did wean.

In these days her emotions did not disclose
But listen to professions of all they know,
And through the years some friends she lost,
And feelings caused her insides to rot,
And various things made her feel this way,
None of which put on display
From filial issues to lack of love,
Troubled by near every trouble sent from high above.

Felt as a corpse buried under debris
No light from above could she hope to see
And as earth compacted on her self,
Nothing could create for her wealth;
Earth forcing its way down her throat,
Only with sprouting thorns could she hope to cope,
And as it filled her lungs so full,
Cold she felt with no wool.

She learned each maggot’s name,
As they pricked at her internal shame,
She, no one at which to direct blame,
Inflicted upon herself this fame,
But as her days grew evermore lame,
She saw her life devoid all the same.

But as earth continued to fill every pore,
She sore and did not want any more
For fear of through lineaments seen
She would be and been
Had she into darkest parts of her lost heart,
Some would be considerate to her corpse, an art,
To try in vain to remove the pain
But her mind be plagued by nightmares again.

Body was numb, could not have dug out she
By herself, to see a sea of lunar light and be
Free to live and love as she once wanted,
But for now she’d bear nightmares that haunted
Her mind, her eyes not able to perceive
Though they begged happy reprieve…
But soon after eternity passed,
The light came slowly to her eyes from the past.

It was as though heaven accepted her soul
Finally, for in earth that was sole
Desire, to be brought out of Hell,
Away from sickly to realm of the well,
And light permeated earth and mud,
And a hand reached into hole to hug
Her faded fabric and satin,
Charnel far-gone, as the language of Latin.

Hand first warmth since yesteryear,
Since when she held that love so dead,
Since before her wretchéd heart did sear
And scar her breast so near
Her hearth, fire once burned here in spite of fear,
Where once her heart ne’er shed a tear.

She caught glimpse of light she longer for
And to its pull she would abhor,
And travel in its blinding wake,
Until after long left behind earthly tremors and quakes,
To a place higher than where angels sit,
On top of French inscribed parapets,
With gracious love rested she there,
Her complexion of so pale and fair.

She, with love, were teased
By other angels to them wheezed
Instead of sang in archangelic choir,
And love soon indulged vice at top of spire,
Taking as his companion Sloth
And it drew her love in like to flame a moth,
But she’d try to love him just the same,
The man with monosyllabic name.

She viewed corpses as if graves were rent
And torn asunder and former tenants sent
From Satan’s gate to kill her
Though three angels there were
There to protect her from Goat’s wrath
Yet all did not escape from vicious bloodbath:
Only she and one other of original three,
And something in him she did see.

She was escorted to heavenly keep
Where there she was forced to weep
For carnal vices did so seep
And to her love voluptuous desires steeped
In Lust, he was in so deep,
Though she stayed like a mouse: silent, not even a peep.

She then began to think of him
Every second succumbing to mind’s whim
And found herself drifting from atop the spire
Where old “love” built his own funeral pyre
For as he forsook Lusts’ company,
Slothful friend more often with he could be
Seen, and though she pleader with him to stop,
He would not, she ranked on his priorities not top.

She visited archangel protector once again
To seek comfort from her relationship vain,
And gave her comfort did he,
When he took her to island in tumultuous sea,
And there did she her heart to herself confess,
And felt as though a great compress
Had been lifted from her soul,
For her, archangel, made her feel whole.

Many months they spent together,
Not caring as much for her Sloth-like companion, whether
He knew or not, did not matter in any case
For sin paramount over love, as seen in his face…
And at the end of happy months, she left
Slothful him, for with her heart bereft
She could no longer live, with him
She knew he’d fulfill all desires and whims.

And soon enough, hearts did tell
That which made hearts feel so well,
Her said he loved her, his precious Mél,
Other emotions this mutual love did quell,
And thoughts of future rang as sound of bells
Cast upon the lovers their benign spell.

Soon many uprisings now as Wrath
Arose from Sloth in vicious bath,
Calling on pettiness of material things,
But he made sure she had himself, her wings
To fly above such low disgrace
And to live with him in special place,
On sealed island where love was true,
And she only forward could direct her view

And though uprisings stopped, still pain she had
Which caused her to be sometimes sad,
So time away from everything
Did she ask him, Beau, who then would sing
To her before her leave,
So she would get benedight reprieve,
As his voice faded to black,
She wished that she could have him back.

In his absence she died;
His life of pride
Was thrown all to the wind not in spite
Of her calling to him with quite
A foreseen conclusion, him finding me,
Newborn, with wings of my own to see
What being free truly means,
With you then created beautiful scenes.

And now I reach the end of my tale, you see
My love, for you know the rest up until we
Laid down here together so in peace we may be,
To express our love as we do overtly;
Now I’m back on island in tumultuous sea,
And the rest, as mortals say, is history, ”
(And hoped did she he had enjoyed her life’s story) .

He pondered all this, in moments of bliss,
Before eyes bleared, the tears running as his kiss
Fell upon her soft angel lips, his arms bedizening
Her shoulders, heart took over sense of decision
And dresses roses with others’
But made sure not to smother
As their bodies moved close in lover’s embrace
He wore look of sadness upon his face.

Scents filled the air, many never ere
Filled, and hearts in chests bare
And against each other so
Other heart could ever faster moan,
But she stopped his kiss to ask,
: Love, what’s wrong? Why do you mask
Your reason for crying,
Not knowing makes me feel like I’m dying.”

He kissed her again, then laid down
Besides her and said, “When I see your eyes brown,
I get lost in the sound
Of a wonderful future, but my hear resounds
With the guilt of giving you reason to die,
And so my love, that is why I cry.”
And into the blue she was instantly lost,
For she was happy to have him, no matter the cost.

This to him she made known,
For he had unintentionally sewn
His name on her heart, which for him moans
And she knew for them the wind had blown
As it did then, happy she owned
Ken that for them stars became full grown.

“Love, please don’t worry about the past,
For time goes by much too fast.
Instead let’s plan for future life,
Together here with your loving wife.”
Of this proposal he was fond,
And began sifting through pond
Of ideas that he and wife could make
Real as soon as from sadness he’d wake.

A thought soon came to him,
Something based somewhat on whim…
He proposed, “What is we were to leave for Seine
On vacation, just you and I, ma Raine,
And for many days we could reside
With only each other by our sides’,
And during day we could like children play,
And at night we could together lay.

But all that we do on those nights
Does not have to be to lay absent of light,
For around fire we could rest,
And tell each other that we’re the best
Picture of love anyone could see,
But they would not, for to river or sea
We’d retreat, though it may be cold…
Bodies together for warmth, if I may be so bold.”

“I love this idea, ” she said,
“But may I add even more to this idea from your head?
Maybe we could be without dread
Of daemon attack trying to make us dead,
And we could in the water…” her cheeks flushed red,
“Make in arms a comfortable bed.

And once we are tired of being wet,
We could maybe… or maybe not yet.”
He urged her to finish her thought,
Although she would rather not,
For shy about this thought was she,
But when she saw blue she knew that he
Would love this idea, one soaked with love
And so she continued her thought, this pretty, pure dove.

“We could dry and then lay
Together and express love in a way
Altogether new, of this new feeling,
Could not be stopped even by heavenly ceiling
And we could allow heart to control
Body as we both cajole
Ultimate passion out of depths of our souls,
To make whole, and fill in all little holes.

We could kiss and caress as we usually do
But take that a step further, and you
And I could make heavens see why,
There is more love betwixt us than in entire sky,
And precious love we could make as passion flows
From our hearts, hopefully then time will pass slow
So that for time we could perfectly show
All the love inside us that we’ve known to grow.”

He lay still with her and she could tell,
Surprise in him was drawn from well,
“How did you know what my thoughts were ma belle
Chere? ” but time not to answer even in Hell
For to her all himself he did sell,
And before love made there he said, “Je vous aime ma parfaite Mél.”