“Though lovers be lost, love shall not;
and Death shall have no Dominion.”
Dylan Thomas
Monet at Giverny
5-8 /16
5
wisteria and his curly blue locks
Narcissus clad in an abyss of lilies
imperial his reflection and perilous
slowly he slides to sleep
merging into his imaged dream
a vaulted cathedral
his earthbound ribs
the blood space immaculate
6
night and day and sun and clouds
leapfrogging over water
something survives
sepia tints
dreaming on and on
exotic this sudden movement
Carassius auratus flowering
7
Clos Normand and the Grande Allée
closed to him now
folded his flowers
their petals tight at his nightfall
dark their colours
mourning for his mornings of light
fled far from him now
8
can we soften this sunstroke of brightness
le roi soleil threatening to blind us?
rey de oros
the sun glow braiding itself
an aureate palette
a susurration of leaves
rogermoorepoet 
Oh, the frustration of auto-correct . I meant susurration not sissies. But it shows how one word can be totally right and one totally wrong!
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In creativity it’s partially write and parsley wrong. Or something like that. I shall use sissies somewhere … it’s a nice word with a nice sound, but I’ll have to change it’s usual meaning. Thanks, Jane.
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Sissies … A lovely word! I like the comparison between ribs and architecture … This Sunday I will bring my big book on Monet’s water lilies.
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I look forward to seeing your “big book”. I have a couple of books and a lovely diary … pristine and never written in! Sissies is a good word too. Nothing wring with that … used in an original fashion …
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You had me at wisteria and his curly blue locks. That is one of my favorite flowers. Beautiful words, Roger!
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I was surprised at how often you could see Monet reflected in the water of his paintings, drifting away among the flowers and the lilies. The white of his hair turns to blue in places where he mingles with the flowers as their mirror images float in the water. Glad you like it.
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A sussuration of leaves! Having seen the garden at Giverny, I can put myself there. 🙃
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I never went there, I regret to say, when I was living in France. I have several books on the gardens, though, and have followed the flower year and his plantings. I saw an exhibition of his lilies at the Jeu de Paume: a semi-circular room and you stood in the middle surrounded by water lilies. It was an amazing, and unforgettable, experience.
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That sounds wonderful! I purchased seeds to plant in my own garden but had them confiscated at the airport. My fault for being honest, I suppose.
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It was lovely here as well, until the lawn men came and started up two mowing machines and all the neighborhood dogs … woofs in the hood. Glad you like it, allison; the sequence is, as you well know, one of my favorites. You have heard it read: I hope it also comes well off the page.
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A lovely softness, this poem, thanks, Roger, a softness echoed in today’s thick, moist air, summer touching us as well as poetry. Take care, @
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