Caldron nearby
she is the enigma,
silver flowing garb
white hair plaited high.
Index fingers encased in wax,
flame extinguished
by gust from fleeing bats.
Eyes heavenward, pointing skyward
she seeks illumination.
Answering nay, consumed by clouds,
lunar glow dims and disappears.
Tear soaked cheeks
dried on thinnest cloth
sHow dwindling faith . . .
consumed moon
pearls from tissue
candle salve
skulls of saints
spiritual songs
her crooning voice cracks
this hallowed eve.
This burial ground,
last chance
to find her gods.
All sounds, all hopes
cease.
Pleas unanswered
she returns to abysmal cave,
forsaken and alone.
Written for Tuesday Poetics at dVerse, the virtual pub for poets around the globe. Today Laura hosts and refers us to the American Poet, Samuel Greenburg. His “…feverish tubercular episodes gave him a verbal recklessness that lent itself to surrealism.” In The Pale Impromptu, written in 1915, he strings words together in indentations and to Laura, they appear like charms on a bracelet. She has listed for us twenty-one of these “charm” phrases from The Pale Impromptu and asks us to use five of them in our poem. I’ve attempted to use his form as well as five of his “charms” which are italicized for easy recognition. My apologies to Laura and Samuel Greenburg if I’ve not explained this very well.
Photo from Pixabay.com
lillian the home poet 
Deliciously Shivvvvvering 🙂
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Thank you!
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Oh I love this… a story of loss I read… did she hope to raise someone loved from the grave?… it will not work … it never does.
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Glad you enjoyed!
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Wow! This is remarkable.
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Thank you, Lucy! 🙂
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Positively wonderful Lillian!
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Thank you, Linda.
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Very well explained Lilian. I like how you made the ‘charms’ into an incantation for this seasonally haunting poem full of visuals:
“white hair plaited high.
Index fingers encased in wax”
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Thank you, Laura. This was a challenging prompt….I enjoyed it!
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I like that you used his form as well as five of his ‘charms’, Lill, which has turned into a proper witch’s spell. You’re already geared up for Halloween! I love the way you indented the charms, as if she is chanting them.
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Thank you, Kim. It was a fun one to do! Tis the season of the bewitching! 🙂
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You tell such a clear story here, without loosing the way trying to fit in the lines. I love the image of the spellcaster at the start. I got the impression of someone poised, and elegant, rather than the typical bent crone.
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Exactly! Witches are so stereotyped as black hats and robes, warts on their noses etc. I wanted to make her different….elegant, exactly!
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Portrait of a despairing and unquiet soul – abandoned by moon, bats(!) and the very gods she’d hoped to find. Very seasonal, very spooky.
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Thank you. Glad you enjoyed. Tis the season of the bewitching! 🙂
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I feel her sorrow and imagine her there in the dark, waiting until next year to try again 😦
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Yes. I see this as an annual ritual.
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Exactly!
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Wonderful! Very well done.
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Glad you enjoyed! Tis the bewitching season.
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Spooky and spiritual, spiced with Greenberg–a strong poetic with a clever tip of the top pen to Greenberg’s style and eccentricity.
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His style is eccentric indeed. Glad you enjoyed, Glenn.
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This is deliciously spooky and feels like a tale which has been told and spread over the generations. I especially love; “Eyes heavenward, pointing skyward she seeks illumination.” 🙂
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Thank you, Sanaa. A witches tale for the season 🙂
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kaykuala
she returns to abysmal cave,
forsaken and alone.
There are times solace for a while can be the therapeutic answer. Wonderful wordcraft Lillian!
Hank
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Thank you, Hank. Glad you enjoyed!
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Dark and wonderful, you had me captivated.
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Well, captivation is good…..especially in this bewitching season! 🙂
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You’ve written the perfect poem for Halloween here, Lilian, and your words seem really in tune with Greenberg’s style. I really enjoyed this Halloween treat!
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Oh thank you, Ingrid. So glad you enjoyed! Tis the season for bewitching tales. 🙂
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Those phrases do sound like cast spells. (K)
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…bubble bubble boil and trouble….. Tis the bewitching season!
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A lovely response to the prompt. I found the prompt very constraining (which I suppose is what poetry is–constraint of words to tell larger truths), and couldn’t find the rhythm, but you’ve really made this your own.
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Oh….I’m with you on finding some poetic forms constraining. The minute someone asks for iambic pentameter I shudder and I have to count beats on my fingers etc. I’m definitely a free verse kinda gal!
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A spooky one for sure! You have captured the Greenberg style very well!
I love this…
Index fingers encased in wax,
flame extinguished
by gust from fleeing bats.
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So glad you enjoyed! It was a challenging prompt…but I ended up enjoying it alot! 🙂
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