Lady of the Lake, your petticoats are better nets,
Bitter nets, finer woven, hoarding.
Wear robes, wear plaster, with a child held high.
The halo is tarnished. Waves, sand, will polish
To your preference.
Lady of the Lake, shake your hair, loosen torcs,
Let it drift free of it's hoard.
Clean. Comb the strands.
Wear veils that constrict, where nothing enters to
Shelter storms. Tides.
Hear no words to sway.
Lady of the Lake, open your hands, let gold flow.
Jewels float with night-lumin eyes, rainbow shells.
Wear no closed fingers by day or night.
No closed lips, unsmiling.
Release words to call hope from the depths,
Not from Heaven.
There is no mortgage to pay
On Heaven.
Powerful poem, Elysabeth. A prayer, a plea, to forces beyond our control but still closer than heaven.
I like to read what others say about poetry. The other day I got to read what Gwendolyn Brooks said in a poetry book. I think your poem fits a lot of what she says especially the mystery part. This poem conjures up so many images for me I am like in a whirlwind of layers of meanings. Gwendolyn's words: This is what Gwendolyn Brooks says about poetry: 'In your poems, talk about what you know. Talk about what you think. Talk about what you feel. Talk about what you wonder..... Be yourself. Do not imitate other poets. You are as important as they are. Do not be afraid to say something NEW..... BE A LITTLE MYSTERIOUS! ....' Ben
You have chosen the mystical power of Arthur's Lady of the Lake as a focus for this prayer, not to the almighty above who has abandonned his followers, but to the lord of the sea - where food for their renewal must come. A beautifully written, passionate plea infused with all the magic and romance of Arthurian legend. love, Allie xxxx
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
This is one gorgeous poem! Congratulations!