Category: Writers Block
With eagle's feather: lives are drawn,
On papyrus scrolls they're scrawled;
But for a girl named Lily,
The pictures drawn will be:
Quickly traced and sooner forgotten,
Paintings made with inks gone rotten;
Never was a picture like Lily's,
Who in her bonds can find no keys.
With fish's fin: threads are twined
Then laid across a sheath of cloth designed
To be woven by the peasant Lily,
Who with careful hands weaves a butterfly:
Gently laying each thread in place,
She weaves the lines through a silken face;
Wrought with the patience of tender Lily,
It shall be a prize for all to see.
With Redwood's staff: the path is found,
Meandering between the pits of rugged ground;
And for the wanderer named Lily,
A providential trail it shall be:
Slowly cleared and slowly trod,
Made by hand of men and not of god;
It leads to sanctuary for Lily,
and grateful to find the end she will be.
With granite stone: a monolith made,
On porous walls beneath the shadows' shade;
Written are the words to Lily,
Which to this day still reads:
"Long was life in quaint corners lone,
Ever wandering is the kite upon breezes blown;
Take heart, oh angel Lily,
For even beyond the veil, life may still be."
With eagle's feather: lives are drawn,
On papyrus scrolls do they live on;
Upon those pages: the Phantom Lily,
In crimson letters she haunts eternally:
Faintly seen and sooner ignored,
Fading 'way like demon abjured;
Though the ink forgets the name Lily,
The pages remember, so live thee on
Oh Immortal Lily.
wow