Archive for Rain

Of the Rain

Posted in From a Melancholic Soul, The Madness of Art with tags , , , , , , , , , on March 11, 2012 by mistressofpoetry

Characteristic Circles of Droplets by Arielle Carroll

A black cat graces the upholstery
As I sit in the filtered spectacle of fading light.
Towers gaze at me from a distance,
But I am much farther than they —
Drifting, somewhere in the mist-filled horizon of dreams.

She sings softly to my companion and I —
Her voice as soothing as any I have heard —
Injecting memories both fond and powerfully distraught,
Though, for the latter – the ghosts are inescapable,
And I have come to terms with their melancholia.

I smile, knowing the grievance by which she comes.
She understands the plight I bear as the sun crosses paths with its elder reflection —
That pain, which I write so eloquently upon the parchment —
It is my salvation from the haunted dancer who lurks in every corner of my mind,
Satiated only by my end; but she will stay my fear.

I would that days such as this remained always with me.
Though no other could see such beauty in her ways, I see ecstasy.
The patterns in her tears are nourishment to me
As art paints itself upon the canvas of my soul and flows to the pen;
And her imaginations enchant me beyond the comfort of sanity.

Nature embraces her chilling caress in blossoms of vibrant hue;
Chants fall from the children of the soil;
And the drums of the mother’s heartbeat reverberate aloud.
I could fall thousands of times,
But her kisses will always cover my frail weepings.

My heart would join with the silhouette on my window,
Tracing stream-like fingers which touch my inner workings.
Would any wise man embrace her love,
He would rejoice in such comfort,
For her passion would melt the stoniest heart who dared to touch her tears.

Autumn’s Frozen Wish

Posted in From a Melancholic Soul, Passion and Pain, Perseverance, Remembrance, The Pain of Life, Through the Passage of Time with tags , , , , , , on October 16, 2011 by mistressofpoetry

Characteristic Circles of Droplets by Arielle Carroll

Sweet rain, fall on my face
And wash away the years of emptiness I feel,
For in your eyes I am but a child
Longing for the kiss of an eternal dream
A dream which left me alone in this dismal heaven,
Dismal, but in the morrow sees my smile.

Fresh tears, fresh pain
And a need for regret
Yet I can feel nothing but the stirring of the storm
As the seas boil in honor of suffering.

Characteristic Circles of Droplets2 by Arielle Carroll

Autumn’s chill seeks the dreary soul
And embraces the willing with arms as wide as the sky
Could it be that I have been merely frozen in disbelief
Or is it with certainty that I care no more?
The flames of hatred have scorched my flesh
With all the pain of words which no longer tear my lips from quietude.

A new fall, fresh rain
And still I find it cumbersome
How life has failed to lift vengeance with the sun
As all the more I wish for pain to quench my thirsting sorrow.

My lady of the dew, my storming cancer
If it were a wish that I could make, I’d wish it all away
And let only your darkness cover me
For I have learned what it is to paint with the colors of black
And be discharged from grace so oft as I breathe
For what is it but darkness which created me
And what is it but darkness, which washes my tears with rain?

Characteristic Circles of Droplets 3 by Arielle Carroll

The Ashen Queen

Posted in Fantasy with tags , , , , , , , on July 22, 2011 by mistressofpoetry

The evening rain slowly draws a smokey breath
To release the pain of a thousand tears
Adorned yet pale
She sits quietly beneath the moon
Her tender brilliance shining o’er through the trees

Her lover, a solitary, silent orb,
Stands watch above his mantle
Grieving not the fantasy he beholds
For he alike is born of mysterious fascination
Enticing those who would dare adore
The forlorn beauty of the sky

Bereft, she kissed his hand in sorrow
As he caressed her ghostly visage
Oh that he could touch her but once of his own volition
And comfort her for just one night
But as she turned with one final departing drop,
And yielded to the sovereign light once more
Her eyes dared glance back to say goodbye

How sweet her essence and how fair her pearl-white approach
When at will she blots out the imperial sun
Covering the sky with the trail of her cloudy garment
Naked, she pours out her blessings upon the clay
As her children stretch out in reverence
To drink her offering of life

The lover returns once more to his nightly throne
To touch the fading aura of her nightly passage
Yet the echo of her thunder brings promise wrought anew
For she is the mother of all beneath her
And the queen of the midnight groom…