LILAC LAKE FANTASIA

Sadly, for reasons of space, the following word-picture poem of mine could not be included in the original edition of Star Steeds and Other Dreams. So I am delighted to present it here instead, as a Star Steeds blog exclusive, its lilac and lavender hues of blissful tranquility offering a welcome respite from the furious frenzy of hectic everyday life.

LILAC LAKE FANTASIA

Morning's first sky-filtered sun-rays

Trace ellipses green and gold

On a lilac lake's clear waters –

Violet-tinged in rippling folds,

Each caressing amber fishes

Darting long in rapid flight

Through its purple undulations

'Neath the heavens' soft blue light.

And the fleecy clouds drift onwards,

Each reflected in its gaze

Of translucent violescence                                                       

O'er a spool of silver haze.                                                       

Shining shots of sapphire swallows                                        

Skim and rocket out of sight

As their sun-deflecting shadows
Stream in speeding, soaring flight. 
And the sun's auroral presence

Glows from deep within the lake,                                                   

As its silhouette of saffron

Shakes in fleeting golden flakes.

                                                                                                   

Now the deep blue vales of shadow                                      

Prom the willows bowed in grief

Dapple racing, circling ripples,

As a green uncurling leaf

Sailing round in swift gyrations

From the centre's spiralled sphere

Holds a single flashing dewdrop –

Or a willow's mournful tear?

And above each mauve reflection

Drift the souls of lakeside flowers –

Rosy, golden-wingèd cherubs -

Borne through fountains, groves, and bowers,

While the nymph of lilac waters

Moves unseen in dappled shade.

She, the naiad of the lakeside;

She, the spirit of the glade;

Gliding swiftly through the waters,

Cool and lucent as the dawn,

As this lavender enchantress

Through the countryside is borne

On the zephyr's ruffling shoulders

Through the heavens' violet shade,

As her countenance of beauty,

Past all mortals, is displayed

In the lilac lake's reflection,

Shining softly 'neath the skies,

Where the cerulean bluebird

Through the morning's shadow flies.

THE PIPER

After viewing this entrancing artwork, the following words were carried to me upon the wind of evening, as light and as free as the dancing notes from the piper's flute.

THE PIPER

The piper plays her pale banshee notes,
Soft and shivering in silver elfin dusk,
And I am lost, a child alone in the darkness,
With only the silent white ravens of Faerie
To greet me, to come to me, or to take me back home.

OBERON'S GARDEN

Hidden deep within the shadowed lands of Faerie is the garden of their king, Oberon – a setting of magical delight, where shy unicorns roam in freedom, bright flowers sing with dulcet voices, and Oberon’s entrancing queen, Mab, reposes in sunlit splendour. Let us step inside this enchanted place for a moment, and see what we shall see…

OBERON'S GARDEN

Sing, yellow linnet, of Oberon’s garden –
Mystical, wonderful, strange to behold,
Hidden away in the deep realms of Faerie,
Dappled in shadows of green and of gold.

Here singing flowers trill their soft lilting music,
Violets, red roses, and other fair blooms,
Borne from all seasons to serenade softly
Oberon, resting in gossamer rooms.

And through these gardens enchanted and lovely
Bright wingèd steeds flit from rainbows to streams.
Timid and shy, here the unicorns frolic,
Misty and distant as overnight dreams.

Pixies race swiftly on glittering beetles,
Harnessed with gossamer, saddled with leaves,
Past tinkling fountains and waterfalls tumbling,
Through groves and woodlands each chariot weaves.

Mab lies serenely in deep beds of sunshine,
Graceful and pale as the bright morning star,
Strange fairy beauty, enchanting and mystic,
Born in a land that lies hidden afar.

Now, as the evening draws o’er this strange setting,
Stars twinkle softly like lanterns of Night,
And when we look back at Oberon’s garden,
We shall find that it has vanished from sight.

It has slipped back to the kingdom it came from,
Back to the fairyland realms of the past,
For in our world nothing lives on forever –
Not even fairies forever may last.