Black Ribbon Rose

The dampness was dreadful dreary.
Nightfall was hushed by northern snows,
and the moon shone pale and eerie
on the skin of Black Ribbon Rose.

Her hair was a midnight ocean
threaded high as a creeping vine,
and her lips were sealed devotion
stained with shadows and crimson wine.

She was quiet as a whisper,
rarely gracing the lens of sight;
and the moon may well have lured her
as she only came out at night.

She possessed a timeless aura,
her frail bones drifting through the wood,
a spectral carnivora
cloaked in fur and a velvet hood.

She cast an elegant shadow,
moving with intuitive grace,
with eyes as green as a willow
in the fade of her lovely face.

The stories were all but written,
but no one knew from whence she came.
The neighbors were all but bitten
like the woman they could not name.

For she wanted as they wanted,
all of them searching for the truth;
but nothing seems more unwanted
than a priest in confession booth.

She disappeared around midnight,
planting her echo in the pines.
A raven shrieked in the moonlight
spreading the word across the lines.

She was always a mystery.
Whatever her name, no one knows.
In the closed bloom of history,
she is simply Black Ribbon Rose.

Author's Note

Reviews

[Eilis]

You always choose such evocative photos to accompany your poems. They heighten the mood. This poem feels like a Halloween or ghost story legend...the kinds of stories I used to hear as a child that would keep me from sleeping. The interesting thing about your heroine here is that she is both beautiful and frightening. Or so it seems. She's elusive-- a living ghost almost. So there is the idea that perhaps she is only a figment of the imagination.

Your descriptions in this are a wonderful mix of the heart of nature and the elegance of a mysterious woman. The way she weaves in and out of the body of the earth and disappears when that is her will, it all adds to the ethereal atmosphere you've crafted with your words.

I do enjoy reading your poems. It is a good lesson for me in meter and rhyme, and also in how form poetry can feel modern and relevant, but also offer that signature heartbeat in the reading. You do make this style look effortless, but I know you've put in your time here. It shows.

[Linda Marie Van Tassell]

Thank you, Eilis, for your thoughtful and constructive review. I've had this poem on the back burner for two years. With Halloween upon us, it finally seemed the right time to breathe life into it. My inclination was for her to be like a ghost, to leave it up to the reader's interpretation as to what may have happened to her. I have my own thoughts. When I say she disappeared around midnight, planting her echo in the pines, it's a reference to her being murdered, her echo being the reappearance among the pines - her ghost.

[Eilis]

You’re welcome, Linda. The ghostly presence is felt for sure. I think the mystery you allow by letting readers interpret heightens the impact of the poem.

[gram linski]

a great gothic poem, with the spectre like presence of the black ribbon rose, gone but not forgotten , it seems,

[Linda Marie Van Tassell]

Thank you, Gram.

[Robert Trakofler]

oh nooo... don't get me started I will start looking for her too!!! Oh hell just give me a hint i'll start searching... I'm a sucker for a good mystery:) you word flow, rhythm and rhyme is like music to my ears
What a splendid voice you have Linda. I am also fond of ghosts and she is a lovely specter and truth revelation is a ghost many would flee I however would chase her like a young curious child yelling tell me tell me tell me until she vanished from my... haunting:)

[Linda Marie Van Tassell]

Thank you, Richard. Look for her in the pines, her echo resounds now and then. :-)

[jacob erin-cilberto]

well, first of all...i agree with Eilis on the photo accompanying the poem...perfect...
I just love this poem...and imagined it recited at a bonfire in the middle of the woods....with all the eerie sounds of nature to accompany it.
and one lone raven watching and listening to the proceedings.
the beat of this poem is magical.
j.

[Linda Marie Van Tassell]

As always, Jacob, I am happy to see you and hear you. This one has been a long time coming. I started it two years ago; and with Halloween around the bend, it seemed the perfect time to bring this one to life. I'm really glad you enjoyed it.

[JTD]

… and still a mystery she remains. There is enough that leads us wanting for more. The title is very captivating and she sounds lovely.

[Linda Marie Van Tassell]

Thank you for the visit and for sharing your thoughts with me.