Apple Of My Sorrow
© Surazeus
2018 06 16
Alfwine stares at apple in her hand
to taste aching sorrow of gold sunlight
reflecting her own face in its curved sheen
at memory of him shouting at her face.
The sharp shards of the clay bowl gleam in dirt
where it broke when it tumbled from her hand,
which spilled enough gold wheat to bake six loaves,
and stab her heart with shame at clumsiness.
Aching shame of her heart swirls gushing stream
of mocking laughter from their glaring eyes,
and she slides helplessly into dark void
of buzzing fear that claws at her dimmed eyes.
Backward she tumbles into empty hole
of numb despair from hot restricted breath
to gasp for air in gloom of nowhere clear,
so she touches her face in apple sheen.
She bites the apple and tastes sparkling rain
flashing red from lightning in thunder clouds
that fills her empty heart with gushing flow
of laughing river tumbling from high hill.
After she consumes the delicious apple,
which sparkles refreshing rain of desire
in her blinking eyes, Alfwine wipes tears
and buries core in mud by flowing river.
Spreading both hands to make apple tree bloom,
Alfwine hums, "I bury in dark Earth
sour sorrow of my heart that I consumed,
to hide the shame of my clumsy mistake."
Walking through rain when lightning bolts flash red,
Alfwine enters feasting hall at crack
of thunder, causing everyone to stare
in silent horror at her blazing eyes.
Her father, who had yelled at her in rage,
runs forward to embrace her to his chest,
and kisses her face, then kneels on the floor,
"Forgive me, my heart, for yelling at you."
"You are more valuable to me than wheat,
and when you ran away into wild storm
you took my heart with you into despair,
but you return with lightning in your eyes."
Alfwine wraps both arms around his neck,
and everyone gasps with joyful relief
when they sit together by glowing hearth
to drink apple cider and eat roast meat.
"I buried apple of my sorrow deep
in mud of the world to hide dark despair
so joy of family love will sprout from light
and grow into tree of abiding trust."
© Surazeus
2018 06 16
Alfwine stares at apple in her hand
to taste aching sorrow of gold sunlight
reflecting her own face in its curved sheen
at memory of him shouting at her face.
The sharp shards of the clay bowl gleam in dirt
where it broke when it tumbled from her hand,
which spilled enough gold wheat to bake six loaves,
and stab her heart with shame at clumsiness.
Aching shame of her heart swirls gushing stream
of mocking laughter from their glaring eyes,
and she slides helplessly into dark void
of buzzing fear that claws at her dimmed eyes.
Backward she tumbles into empty hole
of numb despair from hot restricted breath
to gasp for air in gloom of nowhere clear,
so she touches her face in apple sheen.
She bites the apple and tastes sparkling rain
flashing red from lightning in thunder clouds
that fills her empty heart with gushing flow
of laughing river tumbling from high hill.
After she consumes the delicious apple,
which sparkles refreshing rain of desire
in her blinking eyes, Alfwine wipes tears
and buries core in mud by flowing river.
Spreading both hands to make apple tree bloom,
Alfwine hums, "I bury in dark Earth
sour sorrow of my heart that I consumed,
to hide the shame of my clumsy mistake."
Walking through rain when lightning bolts flash red,
Alfwine enters feasting hall at crack
of thunder, causing everyone to stare
in silent horror at her blazing eyes.
Her father, who had yelled at her in rage,
runs forward to embrace her to his chest,
and kisses her face, then kneels on the floor,
"Forgive me, my heart, for yelling at you."
"You are more valuable to me than wheat,
and when you ran away into wild storm
you took my heart with you into despair,
but you return with lightning in your eyes."
Alfwine wraps both arms around his neck,
and everyone gasps with joyful relief
when they sit together by glowing hearth
to drink apple cider and eat roast meat.
"I buried apple of my sorrow deep
in mud of the world to hide dark despair
so joy of family love will sprout from light
and grow into tree of abiding trust."
Hamlet and His Problems
ReplyDeleteT.S. Eliot
"The only way of expressing emotion in the form of art is by finding an "objective correlative"; in other words, a set of objects, a situation, a chain of events which shall be the formula of that particular emotion; such that when the external facts, which must terminate in sensory experience, are given, the emotion is immediately evoked."