Peter Lilly: Poems

Your hair is blonde it reflects In green flecks, the grass As the water does the sky. At the end of the damp sand And the water of dusty clouds You talk to the ripples and the bubbles Dropping shells in the lapping. You talk the same language of expression For this is the calm constancy of l'étang Not the constant change of crashing waves. Beneath a sunset that marks us With a strong desire to remain I see it reflected in the turquoise of you eyes, a minute flame. In the water, the sun's bridal dress  Drapes an enormous fiery train And proudly L'étang de l'Or  Bares its burnished name. L'étang de l'Or, probably best translated as 'The Golden Marsh', is a large marshy lake between Mauguio and the Mediterranean Sea. This week I walked there with my son and we played at the waters edge before watching the sunset.

The silent congregation of decimated graves surround an ancient building that remains unweathered though emptied of purpose, like a drained chalice; interesting to look at, yet merely a container without contents. But it is ok, don't weep for the building, there's people outside this church yard. Written 13th July 2012.