Evelyn House
I dreamed I was dreaming one evening as I lay
in a garden with flowers thriving
In an old back yard I played in a mystical mood
In the dream I dreamed I was near an old house
The vivaciousness of a scent~ oh yes! I followed me even here
where I truly was receiving
A feeling of love with such divine peace was in the air,
Oh yes! The pool in its blueness
The birds singing, and the trees dancing to the beat of a soft breeze
Yet~ I thought in the dream
that the place was all barren of its beauty
It bellowed out to me to come back
It only seemed; and the old place once left
was filled with uncaring noises and its tender
lovely caring was lost
For many a gardener had testified
how all who watched her were enchanted,
And wondered in search
For the garden stood without her planting
All the flowers were dead, and the buds drooped to brown
in the stead of their singing
But the roses bloom no more on the graves of the doomed
Just where she went is not known
I thought in my dream, oh that powerful tale
A memory that I for one cherished
That the fragrance loading in the conscious vale
Was a ghost of a gal long perished
I said, “I will build from this garden and magnify”
And acting on that idiom
By weeds overflowing and not a single flower
I was lead to the Tower
For was truly, as truly, a new beginning
I ran in my crazed way, to seek out the place
Of the new old house and its new garden, directed
by some supernatural sinister force
to a forest of tall grass and haunted, and infected weeds stood tall.
And still as I planted~ it was all in the dream
that I dreamed I was dreaming
each turning
There were many a holler and a sudden gleam
of eyes
they stood and watched her new beginning
The leaves were all wet with a horrifying brown
that mirrored the hard moon’s labor
And all smells were touched with its aroma with morning sunshine
And freshness of a new plant
But the fragrance divine, coming strong
and reaching some genus of freedom
led her on, though her heart was bearing
Till` ah, the beauty!
I could see on the limbs of a tree
There set her beauty
Midnighthours the old memories came hard and fast
The scent of the roses left behind
And the fading memories of the once loved old house,
The Evelyn house.
The Evelyn home is where I first met myself. I bought it and it was the first time living alone. I left it for a time and this is when I wrote the poem.
Copyright Pattimari
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