When Ophelia met a Monet

Come and meet me, darling
I want to be your lie.
I see your waters dancing
With every pencil line.
Every speck of paint, a peck:
A kiss of dew and time.
Those shores so soft, so cool,
So calm, so green, upon the eye.

Where every blossom could be picked
If I could reach the stream.
Where I could swim inside your eyes,
A green and painted dream.
I’d swing upon the branches.
Your waters I would drink,
With lotuses and crocuses,
And heady hyacinths.

I reached til green have touched my toes
And lapped my dress of white.
The slime had slid up on my knees
And up across my thighs.
The waters pulled and tugged my dress
I felt it grip around my neck.
I tasted green turn cold and black.
From which I came, I can’t go back.

Was I a fool to see the warmth
The dazzling dance of light?
But, Hamlet, dear, you pushed me not.
I walked into goodnight.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s