The Lady Bathed in White

 

 

 

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Enya “Boadicea”

 

 

 

 

We dance late into the night
As we have so many times
In so many different guises
Spread across so many lives
Oh, how I would kindly die
Just to see her spirits rising
Dancing late into the night
With the lady bathed in white

 

Born from scattered ashes
Light emitted from her batted lashes
Platted through the very weave of me
Inconceivably emphatic
As she dashes through the static hum enraptured, making splashes in primeval seas

 

Kissing sunshine every time she breaches
Doing so precisely as she pleases
Free of will like honey bee
She sets a most becoming scene
Mastered in the art of taking broken hearts and fastening the pieces

 

She is famed across the land for the sleight of her hand
While her eyes cast invite to a chamber most grand
Sparkle bright with the diamonds she hides in plain sight
Cast aside in defiance the blight of the damned

 

Every night is the same
Every dance draws to close the same way
Every played masquerade
I am utterly slain
As I dress in decay
She bleeds light into shade

 

Should I never die again
Then I would never once have lived
Every dream would then encrypt
Frozen screams be set adrift
Waking life a charade
To deny the last kiss

 

There is blood upon the buds of her blushing rose hips
As my hands around her waist incline to tightening their grip
With the red sun undone
Harvest moon in eclipse
She leans in for embrace
I delight in her taste

 

Endlessly she flows in most unique composed procession
My dreams are incomplete less they be steeped in her sweet essence
From the Island of the Blessed
To Elysian fields
She runs barefoot through the meadow and enriches bitter yield
Butterfly upon her lips
Summer sky touching every finger tip
She pirouettes through each vignette
And lingers whence she drifts

 

In pure white she is bathed
Hinting canvas yet to paint
While the glint in her crystalline gaze
Frames each glimpse of reminiscent serenade
I would give her the heart from its prised apart cage
Just to bathe in the whites of her eyes once again

 

We dance late into the night
As we have so many times
Lived so very many lives
Died so very many times
Ravens eye it confides
Of my final resting place
Locked in timeless embrace
With the lady bathed in white

 

 

 

 

 

Richard Charles Stevens

 

Keeper of The Crimson Quill

 

 

 

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9 Comments

  1. “She runs barefoot through the meadow and enriches bitter yield
    Butterfly upon her lips
    Summer sky touching every finger tip”

    Such a beautiful image 💖
    Love this pure white romance very much.

    1. I wrote this for All of Me Vol. I and only just realized I had never recorded a reading. It appears one fondly remembered, thus I thought I would bring it to life. You know me and my love odes. I adore getting lost in a melody so sweet. 💖

    1. Thank you for the wonderful words. And for picking cherries from the piece. Miss your presence on Twitter but love that you can still experience my art. Here is where I treasure comments most.

      ◇ Shine bright like the diamond you are ◇

    1. Thank you, My Monarch Butterfly. Having published this last year, I suddenly realized I had never shared a reading and given it a home here. With all the poetry I write, it’s funny that many are never actually recited out loud. This piece felt too treasured to let pass that way. ❤

      1. Wonderful decision. I was pretty sure I had read it before (obviously I had in one of your books), but I fell in love with it all over again when I read it on your site. When one has distance from a lovely piece of art, reading it again lets one feel that initial thrill of discovery. I love how you write!

      2. Your comment just made me smile so wide. The thing I love about posting poetry this way is that it offers more to a visual/audible creature such as myself. The art for a verse such as this has to be carefully selected to fit the tone of the piece and audio is also critical. I feel this is the most complete version of The Lady Bathed in White as it looks to romance every sense in turn. You appreciate each facet and that is precious.

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