On a Pedestal


He shelters her in his garden

From sun and storm alike

He whispers to her silence

On his uneasy nights

So he wraps and wraps around

His lady’s uncanny lay

Her bright and tawdry petals falling

In wreaths of sweet decay

But she is constant, to his eye

Unchanging as the sea

So he wraps and wraps around

His lady’s sympathy

Elizabeth Cook, 2014

Image from Digital Art Gallery

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9 comments

  1. Ah, Lily, my dear, (I know that’s not really your name, but I like it), you have such a fine grasp of imagery and use it so well. I could have read this and without seeing the picture, visualized its image. Really nice !
    Paul

    1. More people call me Lily than Elizabeth, so I say it counts as a real name! Thanks Paul, I was really surprised to find this picture, and was pretty close to posting the poem without

      Lily

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