At Last

I swear, I can prove I’ve captured

The most elusive of creatures

Lo and behold,

A thesis.

Parallel Outlet: 1

Fish, bananas, pajamas, and a mysterious disappearance.

Ageha

Man of the wind, my Ageha

Who in seeing sees from one

A jewel of grey as owl’s wing

From shoulder to skies above

 –

His beauty clad in nomad’s blue

Of the hearts without hearths

He speaks as cruel as he is kind

For his gaze goes sweeping far

 –

He with his splendid, silky halo

A veil bright as summer sun

He has known chains, my Ageha

And his smile is brittle-spun

–

Still he bends strong and fine

Winter fox in gauze and gold

A magnet in the fire’s glow

His secrets held untold

 –

And in knowing of his end

He is not mine to touch or sway

Man of the wind, my Ageha

On the wind carried away.

 

–

© 2012 Elizabeth Cook

Inspired by Basara, image from zerochan

Fairy Tale

She sits with a tilted hip

In the posture of romance

Practiced down to fingertips

Through literature and dance

She thumbs pages in her head

Adopting Sleeping Beauty

Or lips imagined to be red

In a Snow White fantasy

And by turns she will believe

Her hair brushes the floor

Rapunzel in her tower keep

Awaiting him once more

Anniversary of Winter

A year and a half, count me the days

Let them touch my fingertips before you blow them away

Though you cannot, I would go back and stay;

Or take something from then, if not to remain

–

A year and a half, count me the tides

That washed us in anger and washed us in pride

The waters that have and will, many times,

Beat me into the beaches under evening skies

Says, “I Love You”

Car keys gone, a twenty too

The living room in shambles

Water drenches the bathroom

Abandoned clothing in a scatter

Dirty dishes left out of water

Hours later she steps through the door

Her shoes leaving mud on the floor

Says, “I love you”

–

Cookies

Though there were a lot

And in sugar, my teeth ached

There were not enough.

–

© 2012, Elizabeth Cook

The Continental Ladies’ Academy

Since Lavender left, school has not been the same.

It was unseasonably warm last week, and though we had noticed her restlessness we were quite shocked when she walked into the classroom without her many layers of undergarments and petticoats, of satin and lace. She wore (now infamous) leather breeches and a linen shirt that looked marvellously breezy. Sister Mary Tortella, not to be confused with the thinner Sister Mary Margaret, immediately cracked her stick on the lectern and told Lavender to make herself proper.

Lavender’s chin went up and she took her seat by the open window. We could tell that if one were allowed to cane royal flesh Sister Mary Tortella would have gladly done so at that moment. Instead she called for Our Lady the Duchess, under whose auspicious guidance our schooling takes place.

Of Looking Far

From vantage point of mountain ledge

A sunlit view, wide and unimpaired,

As through quiet unstirred waters

Across the great expanse of land and air

To horizons untouched, never quite reached –

Tea Garden

There is the city

Which runs on scarce time

Where silence in parks

Walks soft and shy

–

There is the suburb

Where details await

Of pantry and pocket

Of sheets left in the rain

_

There is the road

Which runs in between

Where one among others

May pass quite unseen

–

But beyond these places

You will find flowered lanes

Winding ’round an estate

Where tranquility reigns

And there is a garden

Where I sit in the shade

Where you might escape

The sequence of days

–

So come through the gate

And shed weary nights

Come to take tea

With honey and spice

© 2012, Elizabeth Cook