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Among A Cypress Silence

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  • Among A Cypress Silence

    Among A Cypress Silence

    Among a cypress silence
    Here lies an olden stone
    ‘Tis steeped in felted spindles,
    thumbs flanked by mossen throne.

    Among the cypress silence
    Roughly hewn in truth untold
    Cruel statue stands
    Lord of thy Land
    the Hand of Fate belied.

    Among this cypress silence
    Nameless, Ceaseless
    sculpted of no model but nightmare’s guise,
    this unrevealed face of evergreen dyes
    To be reborn in heath and thorn,
    To see bereft of Judgment’s eyes.

    Among my cypress silence
    While their gilded weeds slow wither
    My statue of stone doth stand alone
    ‘mid hell, ‘mid moon
    murk wreath my tomb
    the Absinthian Prince astride.
    I rest under it, It lives under I
    We art over them.

    But beneath my cypress silence
    There, in my stone grimace,
    nature’s soft, unadulterated grey
    But beneath my moonlit leviathan,
    beneath my dear creation-

    A red-breasted, beating,
    bellowing, blistering,
    breathing,
    blooded heart
    Behold!

    and the lilies grow faithfully close to our foot.
    Last edited by Gabriella Lombardo; 03-01-2015, 07:48 AM.

  • #2
    Really beautiful imagery. Nicely done.

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    • #3
      Thank you, sir.

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      • #4
        Hi Gabriella, I liked this poem greatly. Terrific sound throughout. Should mention that I have treated the subject of bald cypress in winter, though not as successfully. They are truly haunting, no?

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