Unto She Whom the Seasons Have Dressed in Weeds

Thy grave the seasons have in bienseance dressed,
Allowing earthen increase atop this place of cold rest.
Moss sprawls o’er thy name with its reverence englaimed
And soil offers wan beauties for the One whom it claimed.
‘Neath lunambulism I’ve come to accustom these groves,
Parting the funibrial ure, ever-present in droves.
The moonlight still smells of thy perfumed ebon locks,
And as mem’ry spurs tears, the moon cruelly mocks.
The winds would have me forget thee but their burden betrays,
For interred as thou art, thy spirit still with me stays.
Thy voice through the hollows softly whispers by night
Withal that amorous aroma which tails the twilight.
Every time the dark skies, tinged with my sorrow, swirl
And the grey culches of Heaven they wildly unfurl,
And each crater or pit becomes a deep sloshing pool,
I’m once again rent a lugubrious fool.
For in the rippling waters which each dint does encase,
I can do naught but descry thy once-reflected face.
As weeping follows woe, so then fury proceeds-
Fury towards they who brought thee to repose ‘neath these weeds.
If only the flame in my heart were a torch in my hand!
I would bring them to rue the day they purposed this land,
The day they schemed and thou screamed, whilst I was away,
Where evermore drawky tempers and azure mists play.
But, even now these white petals I glisten with dew,
The abundance of my heart set to spilling anew.
Each diarian embrace the hosts used to behold,
Only now do I cherish them as thou lay coffined and cold,
Beyond the grasp of my hands, soil-stained and barken’d-
How I’ve countless times clawed this earth when my thoughts grew darkened!
May these crystals I drop, in the moonbeams aglow,
Be as thou were to me to these seeds Death did sow:
The fount of inspiration and the reason to sing...
A beauteous light to my world thou did bring.
So rest thee, my love, in thy lily-lined bed,
With all the world wrapping laurels about thy sweet head.
If but one thing I undertake before embarking for thee,
With a flicker, a blaze, their screams shall make us both free.