06-01-2012, 07:19 PM
I Would Talk to You of Beauty Edit 1.Thanks to erthona. Billyill follow
I would talk to you of beauty;
no more to spew out bile and spite.
What glory to my eye, green fields,
all starry topped in yellow trim.
And there, the poppy, clustered red:
remember him, remember him.
I would talk to you of beauty;
not of the choking guilty men.
But of the joy of a high grown tree,
all lichen hosed with glossy crown!
Though scarred the bark, and worn the bough,
where ropes of justice once hung down.
I would talk to you of beauty,
of seas aglow with nuclear blue.
Foamed irridescence, hyaline white,
comes fast and fluid to the shore,
to sink in sands of shingle bright,
that buries deep the stains of war.
I would talk to you of beauty,
of peaks thrust though the azure air.
Still frosted in the summer light,
ablaze when days fall in their shade.
Steep granite pecked by puny pitons;
failed fixes by the fallen made.
I would talk to you of beauty;
that truth which everywhere is seen.
The lifting light of mornings new,
the gentle bidding of each night.
When dreams will show you all of beauty....
whilst words, though chosen, only might..
Tectak 2011
Originally published and pre-mauled in another place but edited further.
S1 Poppy fields of Flanders
S2 Lillooets hanging tree
S3 Dunkirk landing
S4 K2. The deadliest Mountain
Written in thoughts of a sign in a beautiful part of a Polish forest declaring that here was a site of a mass execution. There are many such examples of surface beauty hiding ugly pasts.
I would talk to you of beauty;
no more to spew out bile and spite.
What glory to my eye, green fields,
all starry topped in yellow trim.
And there, the poppy, clustered red:
remember him, remember him.
I would talk to you of beauty;
not of the choking guilty men.
But of the joy of a high grown tree,
all lichen hosed with glossy crown!
Though scarred the bark, and worn the bough,
where ropes of justice once hung down.
I would talk to you of beauty,
of seas aglow with nuclear blue.
Foamed irridescence, hyaline white,
comes fast and fluid to the shore,
to sink in sands of shingle bright,
that buries deep the stains of war.
I would talk to you of beauty,
of peaks thrust though the azure air.
Still frosted in the summer light,
ablaze when days fall in their shade.
Steep granite pecked by puny pitons;
failed fixes by the fallen made.
I would talk to you of beauty;
that truth which everywhere is seen.
The lifting light of mornings new,
the gentle bidding of each night.
When dreams will show you all of beauty....
whilst words, though chosen, only might..
Tectak 2011
Originally published and pre-mauled in another place but edited further.
S1 Poppy fields of Flanders
S2 Lillooets hanging tree
S3 Dunkirk landing
S4 K2. The deadliest Mountain
Written in thoughts of a sign in a beautiful part of a Polish forest declaring that here was a site of a mass execution. There are many such examples of surface beauty hiding ugly pasts.