crumbling lady edifices crucifix

 

Dark-vowelled smoking columns aspire ruin

as dust-tongued, forested roof caves innavely;

water-spoken island surrenders to timbers

of flamed and lillified heaven-circling pyre.

 

Aghast of tragedy, fire-dwarfed gargoyles are

hearting a tear-culled Paris in hymnally tone

to dignify bell-voiced ash of towering ages;

above rubble, The King’s cross, power-gilded stands.

 

 


Linking to dVerse poetics with Laura Bloomsbury and loving the hyphenate-coined words by poet Dylan Thomas (as featured in my poem).

winter rose

(Listen to choir recording here…with lyrics)


 

haunting winter hymn

lo, how a rose e’er blooming

flute plays minor key

 

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photo copyright: kanzensakura            (used with permission)

This  traditional Christmas carol sings a haunting melody, particularly when breathed through a flute. The flowing hymn hearkens back to Cologne, Germany in the 16th century during an evening snowfall. A high Renaissance tune which switches from solemnity to dance-like quality and back again, in half-frozen syncopation.

Originally sung in adoration of the virgin’s purity, Lutherans (ever reforming!) later tweaked the words to change its focus to Jesus Christ. As the hope of Israel, he fulfills the prophecies of Isaiah, appearing as the Branch, a stem from Jesse’s root, and the Rose of Sharon.

 

A rose in winter…totally unexpected and glorious!


 

Thanks to Toni for hosting the haibun prompt at dVerse and sharing the lovely photo of her mature quince tree blooming prematurely.