The Lady of Shalott

A Poem by Kev Bickerdike

Tennyson definitively wrote about this story, in terms of the poetic form, but here we go. I wanted to explore the idea of ending a poem with a triolet.

An alabaster nymph
 rivulets of ochre curls 
fall about her shoulders; 
November leaves wrenched 
from their maternal boughs.

A melancholy Venus, 
emerging from the river’s crest.
 Arachnid like, her fingers 
move across her yarn.

A reluctant Gorgon; 
her slender breasts draw eyes 
and imaginations upwards 
towards that sweet illicit stare.

But she can’t return your gaze, 
as much as you may yearn.
 Your face upon the waves, 
she can’t return your gaze.

Though nights blend into days,
 her eyes will never turn. 
She can’t return your gaze,
 as much as you may yearn.