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Sun, 30 Aug 2009
Another beautiful poem from Willowdown



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 Where are the Flower-women of Alphonium.


Where are the Flower-women of Alphonium -
The fields and meadows are bare of all but stubble where gaunt rasping crows and their shadows stamp for worms and shadow-worms; the song of the forest is still, the bright eyes of mammals closed, bodies curled tight in nests of fallen leaves;
Colours have fled the fields and forests and sky: even the mountains have hid themselves behind grey curtains of drizzle and fog.

Where are the Flower-women of Alphonium?

Where are the naiads of the living River -
the streams no longer rush down the mountains, past my little house half-way between the Earth and Sky, filling my room with happy gurgling sound, filling my dreams with the love affairs of nymphs and errant beams of moonlight.
When I walk to the village to fetch my provisions the lowlands are empty and bare, ringing with the silence of the rushing river's absence; I cross its weary trickle and never wet my feet - no teasing maidens greet me with sly or mocking glances.
Where are the naiads of the living River?

Where are the genii that live in the Sun, the trolls of the Hobgoblin Moon?
The days are dreary and grey and evenings lacklustre and long.
A rat or spinning spider would make an admirable companion in Winter's house of bone.
Snow would be welcome, an excellent adventure, but the heavens are miserly with weather, the stars reluctant to shine.
Where are the Sons of High Heaven and the Ice-crowned Daughters of Light?

Where are the Flower-women of Alphonium -
my heart is bare of all but faded petals and well-trodden dust, its hollow chamber empty even of the faintest of echoes to cause my lips to twitch in the half-ghost of a smile, its thin blood barely warm enough to heat my bones or reach my fingers and toes.
Colours have fled the fields and forests and sky, I barely have the energy to dream.

Where are the Flower-women of Alphonium?
Posted 16:08

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