|Karen Clydesdale, Lady of Almond|
Ethereal Lady of Almond
Tempest of prettiness
Silent exclamation of the cross
Virgin with no temple:
Your temple is my heart, my brain, my hands
There you lived adored, caressed. Kissed,
Like the waves do with the beach.
Your dried tears don’t hide away
And my heart cries afflicted
Wishing the beginning
The first day
Your blue jewels, opening,
Restoring sense to my mind, colours to my days,
Softer darkness to my room.
Essence of life, one day
You offered me your flower,
My heart landed on jewels, dancing candle,
In the universe of your golden meadows.
Another will come,
Another man will write the verses
I could not write for you today.
But be certain, my Lady, my tears at Almond
Will flood in sorrow your river.
(Whitburn, December 12th, 2002)