Sunday, June 26, 2011

Maiden’s Summer Day

Twirling lock of hair
With eyes that look
Into other places
Maiden’s sisters giggle
At young nothings
Wind laughing along
Through draped
Willow branches

Warm breezes remain
Though clouds paint
Shadows across the sun
Then musical,
Like plucked
Violin strings,
Raindrops play
The pond’s face

The maiden smiles
From her
Other places
Breathes deep
As summer scents,
From  raindrops, rise
To fill her

Maiden’s sisters
Scatter, chattering
Before onslaught
Of Summer’s
Drumming thunder
Splitting flashes
Branches whipping
Leaves chasing

The maiden smiles
From this Place
Taken by
Jupiters’ strength,
Possessed by
Tempestas’ power
Maiden thoughts
Cast aside

Ken Goree

I took my lovely daughter to the symphony last night.  This poem began with my unschooled interpretation of Alexander Borodin’s Dance of the Polovtsian Maidens and Polovtsian Dances from Prince Igor.  Borodin knew what he was he was doing.  I didn’t know the title of the pieces before I imagined maidens. 

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