Light and sound rumble above
as thick gray puffs gather to obscure;
Icy spikes rain from the heavens,
urging me to take refuge through the looking glass.
In the calm of the underworld,
I could see dancers of a blue violet hue;
their silky dress in the purest of whites
moving in harmony among the shadows
A distant song gently lures me in –
“Rosemary came from a distant past,
when the sea brought the dew of life
upon the shores where none stood”.
“We dance the ballet that bears her name,
in an eternal promise to revive
a memory of pure and gentle elegance”.
I reach out to their scented embrace but
noise of shattering glass broke the spell.
Before me stood a cluster of flowers
whose lower lip held a glistering sphere.
In the silvery light of its aqueous reflections,
I can hear a soft fragrant murmur
of the sea caressing my soul.