The Continental Ladies’ Village

…Continued from The Continental Ladies’ Academy

They had wandered in the tame forest for several days before finding the path.

Ribbons and lace caught on branches, or sometimes tied there purposefully, in saucy bows. The grass trampled by many bare or slippered little feet, the trees carved with crude hearts and letters.

S + E. K + P.

There was much exasperation in such things, as they were undeniably adorable. And because of them His Lady the Duchess was under strict review for the great escape, the kingdoms were all in uproar, and he was living out of a pack among the trees.

Edge of the World

Toss paper boats, crisp and white

Where the ocean falls into the sky

Where fishes flash among the stars

And where the keening whale-songs are

Bridges between a-float and flight

© 2012 Elizabeth Cook

Image source

That Will Never Be

I long for a meeting that may never be

I long for a parting that will never pass

And in this restless world a-gleaming

It is my guide, my hope, my cast

Of gossamer lines to draw from seas

What dwells ever in the dregs of sleep

In looks and laughs, known yet unseen

Their dearness fraught impossibly

By moments that may never be

–

So flatter my wish, you who read,

For a soul that might my thoughts reveal

In perfect warmth and sympathy

Drawing near despite a steadfast reel

And walking in utter ease with me

Ours a winding path, yet steps agree

Made kindred as when strangers we

Each conjured a figment’s company

Longing for a meeting that will never be

 

© 2012 Elizabeth Cook

For Ania

Second sister of the sorrows, left

Without kith or kin, a soul bereft

On an isle once of green and gold

Now grown silent, grim and cold

Oh second sister, your prison time

Shackled to bleak but stubborn life

Your hair to grey, your eyes to fade

As years follow your empty days

–

So whisper, Ania, of your late twin

In laughter and in grace of limb

And whisper of your father stilled

Your mother robbed of word and will

The fates to leave you witness long

After all the light has come and gone

Until, Ania, you are reborn below

The second sister of the sorrows

Previous: For Achanae

Together, these poems tell the story of Achanae and Ania

© 2012 Elizabeth Cook

For Achanae

Achanae, in sheer golds and greens

Do you still linger there for me?

Your palla the colours of your isle

Your promise to bide, if for a while

–

Whilst I wander ever south and west

At whim and wonder’s soft behest

With they two lovers, surely you know

Any return to your isle must be slow

–

Yet of you, Achanae, I often think

Upon rising and laying down to sleep

Of golds and greens amid olive trees

And of dark tresses left long and free

“Versatile Blogger Award”

luciferknight at Sylvan Historian has kindly nominated me for this “Versatile Blogger Award”, so here are 7 gory details about me:

1. I can bend over backwards
2. I played rugby until I dislocated my shoulder
3. I first went to the US, and swam in the ocean, only this past summer (Canadian, eh)
4. Every time I go to the gym I get jealous of how much stronger boys are

Adam Smith

Quite curious, the cast

Of a bust upon its stand

An excuse to disembody

And petrify a man

–

Yet Adam Smith’s gaze

Whenever turned on me

Is just as comforting

As his wig is silly

Photo from Phronesis in the Ethos

© 2012 Elizabeth Cook