Ophelia's Wayward Muse: The Reawakening

The Lady Of Shallot

"The Lady Of Shallot"

....tragic intrigue.

Beneath the falling emerald mists

Of lilies painted tones of forest green, and

The hesitating eyes of

Virgin-white summer,

She sits, her head perched

Upon the edge of a dream.

A simple wreath adorns her head, an angelic peacefulness

Inspiring contempt for another crown;

The lace bouquet of a lover betrayed,

Another idealised.

Left upon the willows, she weeps,

Diamond tears close to her heart

And priceless jewels strewn upon copper hair,

Blades of grass and twigs of straw,

Much like Ophelia

Gone mad through the eyes of hopeless love

And sharp, unrelenting pragmatism.

Beneath a fading sapphire sky, and

Red-orange leaves of inevitable autumn promises

Turned violent with lust and betrayal,

There is only the promise of peace,

Unrelenting quietude of the heart.

Hopelessness fades beneath the strangling clasp

Of yellow parchment and lily-white hands,

Perched against a heart which forever resounds

Upon the turquoise curtain of eternity,

Eyes lifted heavenward, a vain attempt to gaze upon another

Who shall forever mourn

In shadows.