A parting still


My lady, a voluptuous sky her only rest,

The bedchamber become a bower, become a glade,

Sings fain to dampen cheeks and furrow brows

All her own

Of what she sees, I know nothing save

She bespoke rays cleaving Apollo’s dome

Antique palettes creeping ‘pon the clouds

Once, long ago

And here this mawkish discontent of mine

Amid notes spilling chamber to chamber

Amid delights dulled to erasure

Within my breast

My lady, an unseen sky her only rest,

Seeks strings over vanished, varnished wood

And burgeoning days of warmth gone by

Now lonesome

~

Elizabeth Cook, 2016

Imagine from Landscape Painting Gallery

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