Ophelia

In the depths of hanging vine
nestling creatures in a shadowed hug
as well as quenching thirst,
the willow towered.
And the whole forest shook
at it's presence,
it's swift branches
flailing in the sky's agitation,
eerily peaceful all the rest.

I can't pretend this will do her justice.
But I thought to bring her silent nature
to light.
Never reflected but in the green and coveted pond,
were her unkempt fears.
They tainted the forest
leeches sucking out all color from the air
and her once beaming cheeks.

Without a husband for her to nurture
she focused attention to the beauty
in simple things.
Things that arrive at her whispering call.
She could reason with flowers,
beg them to remain floating on Calla lilies
each her delicate companion.

She knew Gilly flowers
rather intimately.
Lavender made her blush in the moonlight.
Always did she wear
a string of marigold reaming life
to her ladened chest.
Painter's palletes
lay in rows
kissing the rim of her toes
though she would not dare step closer.
Every now and then
a snow berry would appear
when the chill snuck in,
kept her spirit wading above the waters
at it's indigo blue
smiling beneath a white daze.
Spider orchids crawled into her hair
wrapped themselves around her ears
singing her to sleep.

When her husband never came
and the willow cried endless nights
driving her into frantic dismay
she barreled her hot head into town.
Announced insanity's new found domain
reigning King of a delicate mind.
She set out to cease the lamentation
of the wretched willow.
Teasing the barriers of her soul,
taunting with cruel unwanted remarks,
it pounds on the rib cage of her heart.
Instead of succession in her determined plan
her grip had slackened on the resistant barks.
Pushed from the uncourteous limbs of the tree
a shallow pond and soaked loose dress
caught her fall.
It held her softly while her body
henced to rot
waiting for a certain grave.

No one ever understood
such an untamed soul
still swimming with the lilies
in her lake.
Oh it was a shame
she was put to rest
without anyone to weep her name
when her ears were ripe to hear it.

Sank limestone to the bottom,
fish dragged at her dress.
She stumbled upon
light and sound foggy and distorted
underwater.
Her grave of decayed vegetation,
thoughts of rebirth
hatching as eggs
under the lillies.