Apparuit
Golden rose the house, in the portal I saw thee, a marvel, carven in subtle stuff, a portent. Life died down in the lamp and flickered, caught at the wonder. Crimson, frosty with dew, the roses bend where thou afar, moving in the glamorous sun, drinkst in life of earth, of the air, the tissue golden about thee. Green the ways, the breath of the fields is thine there, open lies the land, yet the steely going darkly hast thou dared and the dreaded aether parted before thee. Swift at courage thou in the shell of gold, casting a-loose the cloak of the body, earnest straight, then shone thine oriel and the stunned light faded about thee. Half the graven shoulder, the throat aflash with strands of light inwoven about it, loveliest of all things, frail alabaster, ah me! swift in departing. Clothed in goldish weft, delicately perfect, gone as wind ! The cloth of the magical hands! Thou a slight thing, thou in access of cunning dar'dst to assume this?
Feel free to be first to leave comment.