helleborus
somewhere in a garden in spain
your long lost great-great-grandmother
buried a key on a gold-plated chain
no one knows this but you
and the ghost she still sends
to tease your serpentine dreams
with the scent of yesterday’s roses
one day
as you walk to your car in a hurry somewhere
you’ll notice the nod of a purple veiled flower
and catch a barely-there whisper
spoken
in a language you can’t understand
and that’s when you’ll begin
to listen
.
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A poem a day for 30 days, in honor of National Poetry Month. Day 25
I’m participating in NaPoWriMo, and Writer’s Digest Poem a Day Challenge.
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April 25th, 2015 at 1:40 pm
First, it seems. Gosh, I like this haunting lovely imaginative piece, peaking my curiosity about that golden key–maybe the theme will have to be continued in another poem. I like the line /to tease your serpentine dreams/.
April 25th, 2015 at 3:56 pm
very cool… first.. love the pic.. and love the whole atmoshphere of the poem.. the hint to layers and layers of things that are there but we’re not aware of until something happens and suddenly we can see…
April 25th, 2015 at 4:44 pm
The past is always with us, hauntingly here, with a soft rustle and the faint scent of an old perfume.
April 30th, 2015 at 12:06 am
you capture breezes that no one else feels, except, perhaps, Marquez, or Gaiman. ~