Untitled, 13th July 2015

Lapsed memory fled to empty hazel fields
where animation waits to cultivate
in corporal nature,
existing between dreams,
I was the hope to love
laid bare by the eyes of man
to wander in dust anew,
chestnut stagecraft
becomes the hours lingered for few,
requisite for surrendering to
the nebulous grandeur of emotion,
in those fields I saw you
capitulate to fantasies,
rising from the trace of things
that never came to be,
the trance gave
to each moment, nostalgia,
by name, marvels with forgotten ancient taunts,
what reminiscence preserves us?
we rise from the desecrated earth,
the blessed labyrinth,
the mirror maze,
protected with irregular judgment,
to nourish those junctures,
each predestined to be christened,
you polished away your sins
with sepia waves of clay,
the atonement never needed between days
collectively in calming springs,
the waters
garnet red with passion played
on lover’s nucleus strings,
and I wait beneath it all,
as you look down
flying too close to your sun
for me to stop your fall…


Poem © Phen Weston 2015


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