Leaves are falling
To cover the maiden
Whose feet quickly traverse
The wilderness
The catch in her hair
Flowing behind her like garland
In the cool wind
And, she's Ophelia as she
Splashes into the winter river
And floats downstream
Blue lips and purple rimmed eyes
She's a picture of icy beauty
As her dress drags her down to the bottom
Where she waits
A century later
To be thawed in a Spring
That never comes
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Somebody mentioned the painting but for me it also called to mind a poem by one of the French Romantics (Baudelaire I think, but don't trust me on that)
I do like that moody nineteenth century stuff - its like a Leonard Cohen song, quite uplifting in that it has a hypnotic effect.
Ian
Regis
Reindeer
A masterful poem that leaves the reader wondering ... why. The only hint is the name Ophelia, which is all, and nothing. Unless, the blue lips and purple-rimmed eyes have a deeper meaning than the winter cold...
Erin Elizabeth Kelly-Moen
Felix