Orphic Crown
By: Sultana Raza
I
Could she cradle weary head, mid-night,
Wipe his brow with cascading hair?
Whispering softly in sinuous robe white,
About her stray dog, does she still care?
Bearable, in cruel sphere, made his sojourn,
For soft soothing sounds, as he longs,
How to tame days, could he still learn?
Moist eyes, lips; his grey gloom throng.
Is Cupid castigating him, for quitting her realm?
Slivers of remorse, slice his shrinking core,
Envisioning bleak smile, his eyes overwhelm;
Wishes tender scent, could touch at least once more.
Her patient devotion had he misunderstood?
Of feeble fingers penning so, there's no likelihood.
II
What he wouldn't give for quiet smile, stilled tea?
Remembering his grin, would discreet eyes glow?
At least for a while, salty drops would flow;
Yet, in lost, dreamy eyes, roamed her restless sea.
Could he have cherished her, had she been free?
Under her care, would his basil plant grow?
To his firstbright starwhat would he owe?
Could her heart been unlocked by a golden key?
Has she fortified him with drips of hazy hopes?
Docile, yet turbulent, their hours had been sane,
Into keening emptiness, weakly he gropes.
She'd shaped time, so perfumed would cage remain.
Driven away from Guinevere, Lancelot grieved,
Contrary planets their paths had quickly cleaved.
III
On cold, dreary isle, a few friends for him cared,
Does discreet Isabel of him still think?
Perhaps this torture, he could've been spared.
Under watchful care would've liked to sink.
Subtle airs, tunes whispered of her scent,
No siren, no mermaid, just a gentle soul,
Serene, patient ear she'd always lent.
At least she'd treasured his unfinished scroll.
Would she preserve his memory intact?
Plucking poems from air his favourite sport.
To his early demise, how would she react?
Such fine rhymes very few could court.
At least she knew his real value.
Would she water his memory with tears true?
-The End-
Note: This poem has been excerpted from my manuscript Stake in Eternity, inspired by the lives of Romantic poets.
-