SERENITY
Beautiful, are your poems tonight.
As a dove, taking on flight.
Luv perseveres, thru the hearts ov our poems.
As they take on height, creating a beautiful sight.
Camelot grows, with such serenity my dear😚💋
I like most of the poetry here, Clay. I'm not a lover of blank verse but it can be beautiful. The reason for this is because I don't really understand it though I have had the odd go.
LUV OV A QUEEN
Sitting quietly, with you upon my mind.
Desiring you, thru out our time.
Tales of our luv, brave for hearts to conquer.
You my knight, in shining armor.
Visions ov luv, forever I have seen.
For decades, I have been your queen.
Dismal to others, our life will be.
Hand in hand, thru our destiny.
Thru our paths, that run behind.
Beautiful will be our find, keepers ov the score.
Memories ov your tours, theories are the signs.
Visions will, continue to be more, if you could be mine.
My luv for you, travels thru history, luve be told.
With one day ov hope, we will be Luving strong.
I your queen and you as my king, forever our luv will reign.
Busy you have been my sire, but with respect I do admire. Thank you for the images sire.😚
Thank you lady Anne appreciated.😚
SINGLE TREE
A single tree sits alone, surrounded by beauty that is owned.
Luv it retains, working together, both will reign.
Open minds sustain, visions to become real.
Magically we will instill, when we no longer feel.
Wondering has my mind, looking for something we no can longer find.
Mankind is going blind, to visions ov the luving kind.
With nature, may be the answers we need to find.
Living free, the way we were meant to be,
No wars do we see, one against one, is how they all survive.
That is their destiny, along with their instincts, ov their lives.
Beautiful the reign, together live & survive.
BEAUTIFUL CREATURES
Heart to heart, our luv competes.
Looking for the luv, that we seek.
Darkness ov the night, as the crimson peaks.
Shadows everywhere. Creatures ov a beautiful sight.
We luv the meek, bloodletting our right.
In the fog, alive I am to be.
Ecstatic my reprieve, wonderful my eyes, ov you to see.
Drifting thru the fog, quickens that crimson siege.
Dark the alleys, shadows do deceive.
Works ov mystic wonders, wanting you to be ov me.
Essence ov a human near, is a drive to persevere.
Oh the human charm, as I hold you so dear.
Cradled within your arms, I listen to your heart.
With your life, I do not wish for you to part.
You are my heart, thru you I have a life, I wish to live.
Thank you Mi Lord, within my stop I try to build. Sometimes the words in mind disappear. To a different time. Thank you greatly appreciated sire. 😚💋
DESTINY'S MATE
Time strikes me down, with each time, my luv I found.
Sad is the mind, when I traveled back thru time.
Appendages' ov life, severes each find.
Shredding hearts, isn't so kind.
Hearts wish to be consoled. Not primed.
When cutting someone, out of your life.
Cut deep enough, removing all ov the pain.
Our hearts react, to so many things.
Sometimes, driving us insane.
Dominating thru the pain, luv yet it still brings.
Destiny is your thing, to find luv once again.
Mirrored thru time, destiny's mate.
MOTHER'S CREST
Thunder, what a beautiful sound.
The mother, holds her ground.
Heralding, lighting as her crown.
Her tears, are so profound.
If only they could purify, the deformity Ov mankind.
Washing away, the blight ov humanity.
Would it not be, the best ov it's refinery.
Living as mother nature's best, dignified again, heralding her crest.
Thank you my dear, with more poems.
My poetry stop, will persevere.
The Lady of Shalott (1842 Version)
by: Alfred Lord Tennyson (Author)
Part I.
On either side the river lie
Long fields of barley and of rye,
That clothe the wold and meet the sky;
And thro' the field the road runs by
To many-tower'd Camelot;
And up and down the people go,
Gazing where the lilies blow
Round an island there below,
The island of Shalott.
Willows whiten, aspens quiver,
Little breezes dusk and shiver
Thro' the wave that runs for ever
By the island in the river
Flowing down to Camelot.
Four gray walls, and four gray towers,
Overlook a space of flowers,
And the silent isle imbowers
The Lady of Shalott.
By the margin, willow-veil'd
Slide the heavy barges trail'd
By slow horses; and unhail'd
The shallop flitteth silken-sail'd
Skimming down to Camelot:
But who hath seen her wave her hand?
Or at the casement seen her stand?
Or is she known in all the land,
The Lady of Shalott?
Only reapers, reaping early
In among the bearded barley,
Hear a song that echoes cheerly
From the river winding clearly,
Down to tower'd Camelot:
And by the moon the reaper weary,
Piling sheaves in uplands airy,
Listening, whispers "'Tis the fairy
Lady of Shalott."
Part II.
There she weaves by night and day
A magic web with colours gay.
She has heard a whisper say,
A curse is on her if she stay
To look down to Camelot.
She knows not what the curse may be,
And so she weaveth steadily,
And little other care hath she,
The Lady of Shalott.
And moving thro' a mirror clear
That hangs before her all the year,
Shadows of the world appear.
There she sees the highway near
Winding down to Camelot:
There the river eddy whirls,
And there the surly village-churls,
And the red cloaks of market girls,
Pass onward from Shalott.
Sometimes a troop of damsels glad,
An abbot on an ambling pad,
Sometimes a curly shepherd-lad,
Or long-hair'd page in crimson clad,
Goes by to tower'd Camelot;
And sometimes thro' the mirror blue
The knights come riding two and two:
She hath no loyal knight and true,
The Lady of Shalott.
But in her web she still delights
To weave the mirror's magic sights,
For often thro' the silent nights
A funeral, with plumes and lights
And music, went to Camelot:
Or when the moon was overhead,
Came two young lovers lately wed;
"I am half-sick of shadows," said
The Lady of Shalott.
Part III.
A bow-shot from her bower-eaves,
He rode between the barley-sheaves,
The sun came dazzling thro' the leaves,
And flamed upon the brazen greaves
Of bold Sir Lancelot.
A redcross knight for ever kneel'd
To a lady in his shield,
That sparkled on the yellow field,
Beside remote Shalott.
The gemmy bridle glitter'd free,
Like to some branch of stars we see
Hung in the golden Galaxy.
The bridle-bells rang merrily
As he rode down to Camelot:
And from his blazon'd baldric slung
A mighty silver bugle hung,
And as he rode his armour rung,
Beside remote Shalott.
All in the blue unclouded weather
Thick-jewell'd shone the saddle-leather,
The helmet and the helmet-feather
Burn'd like one burning flame together,
As he rode down to Camelot.
As often thro' the purple night,
Below the starry clusters bright,
Some bearded meteor, trailing light,
Moves over still Shalott.
His broad clear brow in sunlight glow'd;
On burnish'd hooves his war-horse trode;
From underneath his helmet flow'd
His coal-black curls as on he rode,
As he rode down to Camelot.
From the bank and from the river
He flash'd into the crystal mirror,
"Tirra lirra," by the river
Sang Sir Lancelot.
She left the web, she left the loom,
She made three paces thro' the room,
She saw the water-lily bloom,
She saw the helmet and the plume,
She look'd down to Camelot.
Out flew the web and floated wide;
The mirror crack'd from side to side;
"The curse is come upon me," cried
The Lady of Shalott.
Part IV.
In the stormy east-wind straining,
The pale-yellow woods were waning,
The broad stream in his banks complaining,
Heavily the low sky raining
Over tower'd Camelot;
Down she came and found a boat
Beneath a willow left afloat,
And round about the prow she wrote
The Lady of Shalott.
And down the river's dim expanse –
Like some bold seër in a trance,
Seeing all his own mischance –
With a glassy countenance
Did she look to Camelot.
And at the closing of the day
She loosed the chain, and down she lay;
The broad stream bore her far away,
The Lady of Shalott.
Lying, robed in snowy white
That loosely flew to left and right –
The leaves upon her falling light –
Thro' the noises of the night
She floated down to Camelot:
And as the boat-head wound along
The willowy hills and fields among,
They heard her singing her last song,
The Lady of Shalott.
Heard a carol, mournful, holy,
Chanted loudly, chanted lowly,
Till her blood was frozen slowly,
And her eyes were darken'd wholly,
Turn'd to tower'd Camelot;
For ere she reach'd upon the tide
The first house by the water-side,
Singing in her song she died,
The Lady of Shalott.
Under tower and balcony,
By garden-wall and gallery,
A gleaming shape she floated by,
A corse between the houses high,
Silent into Camelot.
Out upon the wharfs they came,
Knight and burgher, lord and dame,
And round the prow they read her name,
The Lady of Shalott.
Who is this? and what is here?
And in the lighted palace near
Died the sound of royal cheer;
And they cross'd themselves for fear,
All the knights at Camelot:
But Lancelot mused a little space;
He said, "She has a lovely face;
God in his mercy lend her grace,
The Lady of Shalott."
THANK SIRE for sharing
If I had not, seen his name.
I should have known, from his words.
Tennyson being his name, castor us his fame.
Your right sire, the prose is deep to the heart.
For I do luv such prose. Thank you again.😚
