Ruby at her window . . .

lillian

Frost-shimmer blurs window glass, like her lucidity,
as winter bundles trudge in faceless frigidity.
Memories sync with candle flicker, seem to come and go,
vague blizzard of anonymous insipidity.

She sits quietly peering through pane at what’s below.
Her mind, once clear as bright sun filled days, now lies fallow,
unaware of winter’s certain approaching demise.
The promise of warmth, rebirthing wild blue indigo.

Frank hosts Thursday’s MTB at dVerse, the virtual pub for poets, and asks us to write a Rubaiyat:
* a Persian form of poetry, written in quatrain stanzas (4 lines to a stanza).
* Originally, 13 syllables to a line with variation on the pattern of accents.
Rhyme scheme is AABA, BBCB.
Quite the challenge!
Wild blue indigo is a flowering plant native to much of central and eastern North America and is particularly common in the Midwest. 

31 thoughts on “Ruby at her window . . .”

  2. V.J. Knutson February 2, 2019 / 10:57 am

    This is exquisite. I impressed by the complexity of rhyme and the solidity of your images, lines.

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    • lillian February 4, 2019 / 11:52 am

      Thanks much. As you can tell by how far down the line in the number of people posting this entry is…I really struggled with this. So I really appreciate your comment here.

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  4. Frank Hubeny February 2, 2019 / 12:44 pm

    Nice description of lucidity becoming like frost. “Her mind, once clear as bright sun filled days, now lies fallow”

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    • lillian February 4, 2019 / 11:53 am

      Thank you, Frank. I’m glad you liked the comparison.

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  5. sarahsouthwest February 2, 2019 / 1:32 pm

    Excellent rhyming, Lillian. I love the parallel between clouding of the the frost and the mind.

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    • lillian February 4, 2019 / 11:55 am

      Thank you, Sarah. Especially for mention of the rhyming. It does not come naturally to me and I have to make lists and lists and then choose the words…so I really appreciate these kind words.

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  6. Glenn Buttkus February 2, 2019 / 3:38 pm

    Ah, poor sweet Ruby; if only death were like freezing completely; just numbing, mute, nearly painless. Your metaphor is tight, yet grand. Your mastery of the form is great.

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    • lillian February 4, 2019 / 11:57 am

      Thank you, Glenn. You are the only one who mentions her by name…Ruby at her window…as in Rubaiy – at…😊.

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  7. Gina February 2, 2019 / 4:17 pm

    wild blue indigo – such a poetic name, my heart fell for it immediately

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  8. msjadeli February 2, 2019 / 7:55 pm

    I love the whole poem for the comparison between winter and Ruby’s mind and the flow of it. I was puzzled by the last line until reading your note. My favorite line from this is: “as winter bundles trudge in faceless frigidity.” It paints such a vivid image.

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    • lillian February 4, 2019 / 11:59 am

      Thank you! Yes…that’s why I put the explanation in. I think it’s a flower most are unfamiliar with. For me…the hope at the end is in the rebirthing of spring and in that sense, perhaps the passing of Ruby into another life where she too can be rebirthed— however one’s beliefs in the eternal run.

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  9. robtkistner February 3, 2019 / 12:45 am

    This is sadly beautiful Lillian, at least as I interpretted it – and how, at my age, I relate to it.. Someone fading, memories flickering. I read two meanings into the word pane (pain). This poem touched me deeply.

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    • lillian February 4, 2019 / 12:03 pm

      Thank you, Rob. You read it exactly as I meant it….thank you.

      The one addition I would put to your reading resides in the last line. Just as there is a rebirthing of beautiful lowers in Spring, I envision Ruby dying to rebirth in some kind of eternal life (depending on one’s beliefs) and the frost etc melting into clarity of beauty again. If that makes sense when you read the last line.

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  10. Grace February 3, 2019 / 10:08 am

    There is a sadness here, the awaiting of demise during winter. This is my favorite part:

    Her mind, once clear as bright sun filled days, now lies fallow,
    unaware of winter’s certain approaching demise.

    Liked by 1 person

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    • lillian February 4, 2019 / 12:05 pm

      Thank you, Grace. I do like this poem…and I was surprised to finally read it as it was a long time coming….as evident in how far down the numerical line it is in the posting.

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  11. Björn Rudberg (brudberg) February 3, 2019 / 12:07 pm

    This one is so sad, I see the end of the road and seeing in winter only wishes for a spring that will never come. Love how you worked a very complex poem with metaphors into the simplicity of the form.

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  12. petrujviljoen February 6, 2019 / 12:20 pm

    A somewhat different, off the beaten track rubaiyat. Appreciated the pathos in this.

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  13. whippetwisdom February 7, 2019 / 4:50 pm

    Beautifully penned and rhymed Lillian and using the longer (13 syllable) lines works very well. I love the promise of rebirth in the final line and it reminded me of the indigo children 🙂💜

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  15. Mish February 12, 2019 / 1:04 pm

    This is wonderful work that I can appreciate as I also struggle with form. I feel you nurtured each line, Lil.

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  16. kim881 February 14, 2019 / 4:17 pm

    You’ve rhymed up a storm there, Lill! I love those ‘winter bundles’ that ‘trudge in faceless frigidity’, the ‘vague blizzard of anonymous insipidity’and ‘The promise of warmth, rebirthing wild blue indigo’.

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  17. memadtwo February 16, 2019 / 6:03 pm

    Lucidity blurred…that’s a good description of dementia. The focus goes in and out. And the window works well as a complementary image. (K)

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