Where The White Lilium Grow

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
This was written for my mother, who was buried on Easter day, when I was five.

Submitted: November 30, 2006

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Submitted: November 30, 2006



~ Where The White Lilium Grow~

In Memory of: Marlene Lillian (Lilly) Walker Burnett

A rapturous day stolen of its splendor,
Fateful dismal day that Christ is risen.
Grieving heads bent in Aprils' sheen,
Lay her body beneath a mighty oak.

Stark white on black
contrasts emerald green~

"Where does thy mothers' warm bosom lay?"
It lies within a deep dark slumber.
"What abhorrent mark struck upon a
lovely brow?"
By this deed let not your heart be encumbered.
Forever is naught but only for now.

Feed not the Lilium of helpless vengeance,
Follow me only where catharsis winds blow.
Maternal whispers alone in stillness,
Look for me where white Lilies grow.

I'll not rush to answer a lonesome call,
Awaken me not till I rise with thee,
Disturb me not to watch sibling tears fall,
Unless to lay a Lilium upon my feet.

Eternity is naught but for a moment,
For joyous Easter Lilies do not weep.

by AmunetsApple

© Copyright 2019 AmunetsApple. All rights reserved.

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