Lilly

 

 

 

Lilly

 

Lilly loved landscaped horizons,

She talked about the moon and the stars

From slingshot distances outside her upstairs doorway

 

Wild horses galloped in her front yard,

Their frenzied gaze adorned unknown constellations

 

She had this dream about becoming a singer

And strumming Bob Dylan tunes,

 

In the meantime she wore many milestones

Meeting each on the winded roads of her travels

 

The first was of the sunflower, the tiny seeds fell

Between her fingers, she caressed their fragility

 

Then came of the clandestine virgin

In which she frolicked in the corn fields,

Clothing herself in their husks

 

The moon tides crashed and pollen pellets ruptured

 

Lilly Loved landscaped horizons,

She talked about the moon and the stars

But this time she met those constellations

On the way down from her balcony

 

Reviews

[The Language of Birds]

great finish, a sad, arcing downward turn. There is so much working for this poem... slingshot distances... brilliant, and more.

The only part that left me a bit cold was I"n the meantime she wore many milestones/Meeting each on the winded roads of her travels" For some reason is felt a bit abstract compared to the winning images you have throughout the rest of this poem. For the most part, quite lovely, and worth the effort. I'm glad I got to read this.

Be Well,

Jim C-D

[Valentine]

Beauty and thaan from what my mind gathers..a tragic end to life in which all of this beauty lives in the mind..Different but well written..Valentine

[Greg the Bard]

The sceem carries the work from one image to another. Your words seem sellect at times but the ending is really good. I thought the flow and its speed worked against each other at times but it looked as if it were pland that way. "The moon tides crashed and pollen pellets ruptured" is my favorit part. Good job.

[Blackbirdsong]

I agree with your previous reviewer this is brilliant. You completely create this woman and her world from what at first seems a dreamy existence into one that grows more and more out of control towards a tragic end. She remains unaware as she continues unaware throughout. I like the line about the milestones, for some reason I see that as a necklace that she's wearing. Of course it were a necklace it would be like the albatross in "The Rime of the Ancient Mariner." Love this one Lionel...this should be in your book. :)

[Lori]

This is a wonderful portrait. It's very much like a painting -- parts of the life highlighted and others kept in the darkness -- to give us the picture the narrator has. I see this woman who had so many things she wanted to do, but she's confined for reasons that are spelled out. It's a tragic end.