Song of Ophelia

In the chimeric awning of dusk

The sky betrays it’s hesitance to dim

Merely a merciless dome

Doused in the hyperbole of saccharine clouds

As an eerie stillness descends

Upon the river’s edge Ophelia reclines

Unseen among a luster of reeds

Reticent as a solitary pearl earring

Or a cameo broach, that breathes

She helms the water’s breast

Flanked in a wistful harem of petals

Lily, hyacinth and aster set adrift

In ominous spirals, taken downstream

Relinquished to fate, interpretive

As fortunes stirred from tea leaves

Noiseless as madness when given a reason

She errantly fingers the tide

As syllabic voices do, her insides

Sated in the transition of a surge

She confides her troubles in the tributary

A litany of nonsensical secrets

Lost in maniacal daydreams of hawkmoths

She looms in plumes of silence

Among the dampening mood

Of another Indian summer

She envies the hazards inherent

The undertow, for she knows

It’s ability to sustain it’s abandon

She identifies with its perilous objectives

As her eyes fill with peridot uprising

She wettens her dress in a petition of ripples

Begging for a baptism

Replete with bridal requite

Come child…” whispers the deep

Come girl, don’t fight it.”

a. duncan, 2020


Featured artwork:

Natalie Kovachevski – L’Effleurement
Monia Merlo – Dark Beauty

Featured music:

‘Letters Of A Traveller’
By Ólafur Arnalds, Alice Sara Ott

Posted by

Amor et melle et felle est fecundissimus || Love is rich with both honey and venom

One thought on “Song of Ophelia

  1. This poem… submerges me, makes me Ophelia and places me under the surface of the water in the painting. The words do not seem like words but are seamless with the image itself. My hair becomes like seaweed.

    Begging for a baptism
    Replete with bridal requite
    “Come child…” whispers the deep
    “Come girl, don’t fight it.”

    I won’t fight it, i want to wade into it.


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