Diane De Poitiers And The Undines Poem by Diana Thoresen

Diane De Poitiers And The Undines



Sadly unnoticed by Gustave Flaubert, a wordsmith
Daydreaming of a moon mistress

The phantom awakes within the gilded artifice
Of Fontainebleau myths and quaintly shaped lakes

Beyond the miasma of Flemish tapestries and flesh
Diane remains an unextirpated perfumed letter

Whose Gothic script completely dissolves
In the labradorescent dance of the waves

Shining undines serenely salute
The first rays of the sun under five airy arches

Entwined initials which don't know the flow of time
Are watching the river don different masks

Henri sees the light of Diane and all lilies sing
Chenonceau stuccos are altered and diffused

When the chaste Diane wanes and turns dark
Only silvery water remains an unbending champion

Of eternal light in the evergreen spring of soul
Soothing streams bring a sharp finesse of mind

Inside a most sacred chapel of pure devotion
Where even crowned revenants find a way to trust

Diane De Poitiers And The Undines
POET'S NOTES ABOUT THE POEM
Diane de Poitiers loved Chenonceau, she devoted much of her time and money turning Chenonceau into one of the finest royal palaces in France. Her bedroom 'The Chamber des Reines' is a delightful blend of style and luxury. The room is dominated by Diane de Poitiers' bed which is believed to have an ‘extraordinary' effect on those who lay on it. In his book Along the Loire, Gustave Flaubert described his delight at seeing Diane de Poitier's bedroom: 'Among the amusing artifacts that you can find in Chenonceau, is the bed of Diane de Poitiers, a canopy bed from the royal concubine, covered with damask. If it was mine, I would not resist lying down once in a while. To sleep in the bed of Diane de Poitiers, even empty, is much more exciting than sleeping in other bed with much more touchable realities. Imagine, if you are part of those who have imagination, the incredible, historical and 16th century voluptuousness, to put your head on the pillow and the mattress of the concubine of Henri II. Oh! How would I like to exchange all the women in the world against the mummy of Cleopatra'
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