Still Our Mother Weeps
Our mother weeps as floorboards creep in and out of season
by David Lacey
As Eden weaves autumnal leaves each day without a reason.
Embroidered confectionary poured upon the child lavished in affection.
As savage reflections are cast upon funhouse mirror imagery.
Autumns leaves are shivering in Winters wake, as the land sleeps
Beneath a blanket virgin laid down my maidens Blue.
Veins are running thick fast currents of mountain dew all In
Anticipation of your presence. All in appreciation of your essence.
Outside the wind breaks at the gates of dawn, she calls
Upon the mother of pearl mornings claiming that without
Warning Tempestries would never run to rest, at best she claims
They may lay below a burning sky, under the illusion of false blessings cast.
Shake away the nightmare, leave it wallow.
Swallow your pride, ride beyond your boundaries.
Break the horizon, break beyond the wave.
Savour memories fond, sacred in favour.
Still Our Mother weeps, still virginal maidens creep, keeping cold my veins.
Promising day in, promising day out that things will one day be the same as
They were back so long ago now my mind is lacking in the perfection demanded
By the portrait etchings I keep honoured within the corridors of my minds palace.
Within which I hope to find the doorways revealed. I hope to envision secrets concealed As an open book to read, another day, another hook on which we are to feed.