Isis

Posted by chant on August 20, 2010 - 13:15

Isis, your golden fields stand empty,
a lone hawk hangs in the shimmying air,
you've braided your hair and the rain does not come.

Isis, are you mixing with a new crowd,
turning heads in a shift of Egyptian cotton?
You used to be a friend to kings and sinners.

Isis, I’ve raised a new home for you on Philae,
vivid paintings of your husband throughout.
Does his absence no longer salt your tears?

Isis, remember the secret names we shared,
I’d welcome a kind word, scatter some love.
You always knew how to use your heart right.

Isis, your golden fields stand empty,
a lone hawk hangs in the shimmying air,
you've braided your hair. Won't you loosen it?

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Comments

Hi Chant, long time no converse.

You haven't lost your touch. Very clever - loved it !

Hi Chant,
Love this poem, what an amazing use of words.
Jenny.

'shimmying air' so visual, quite sensuous description tying her to the elements. Enjoyed. atb Lena xx

thanks choose. :-)

hello Jenny, thanks for commenting, glad you like the poem.

thanks Lena. :-)