Wednesday, April 21, 2010
Lilac Morning
Lilac morning and soft rain,
old ghosts join me at the door again.
Come or go, it’s all the same,
so stay it is, stay it is.
Satin streets and clean white sheets,
stained by the blood of hours.
The blood of ours, dark and deep,
seeks solace in the flowers.
And the lilac’s own heart beats,
as always, as never before.
(first publication)
Updates:
“Lilac Morning” added to Poems, Slightly Used.
In the Forum: Washington crosses the Delaware in a weird poetry hat.
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13 comments:
This is really beautiful...
this one
is
beautifully
interwoven, William,
and endlessly
enjoyable,
literally
and figuratively.
sublime!
oh is so nice and deep to read you...
i like this so much
I like what noxalio wrote about your "Lilac Morning". I am new to your work yet I feel your work will always be new. Sublime, yes. Truly inspired, in the Greek sense. And this poem in particular equal to Whitman's
love. Thank you, William.
Transcend, thank you. What a beautiful thing to hear!
Noxy, your poetic comments are always a treat. We suffer from a similar affliction, it seems. I’m glad this tickled your fancy.
Laura, I don’t think I would have written this poem if I had not first seen the beautiful pictures you posted yesterday of the flowers on your terrace. Thank you.
And thank you, too, Donna. What a heartening response! Thank you for visiting. It’s an honor to have you here.
Blood of hours, blood of ours. Yes, dark and deep. Ever present, those ghosts. Sometimes the door, sometimes under the bed...beat beat the lilac's own. Loved that. As always, as never before. No moment is ever the same as the one before or the one next. Same damn ghost though.
Hard to imagine life without their presence. It began for me when I was still quite young. “Now there’s a likely suspect,” I heard one say. But no one was there. No one.
Sounds like you need to be inlcuded in our Usual Suspects group...
"Lilac Morning" is so beautifully written. It has really touched my heart and soul. I was seeing lavender mist in my mind as read this. I could really feel the line, "old ghosts join me at the door again". I really love this one William~~~
In that case, Wine and Words, maybe I should change the first line to
Lilac morning and Claude Rains
*
Janice, I’m really delighted to hear that. And I was thinking the very same thing about the mist when I was writing it.
I read this poem this morning as rain was gently falling outside. So nice of nature to cooperate and provide the right ambiance.
I feel a little late today, getting to your words. This morning had the feeling but was missing the rain. Thanks
Indeed, Shelli, nothing like a little “mood music.” Thanks for dropping in again.
Anthony, ghosts out your way too? I’ll bet they haunt one of your watercolors sometime soon....
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