Iliterate Poet

A dumping ground for my works in progress.

29 Jul 2011

Tears, Tantrums and Terraces

Sparse and bare on wasted sun baked fields of despair.
She cried and wailed for her green washed home.
Queen of a rainless forest, where nature's beauty doesn't care.
Lady barren, her happiness harassed;  put out to loan.
Surrounded by golden pillars and exotic jewels so rare. 
Sitting, slumped, slavishly, surveying from her thrown.
Emeralds failed to mimic the great green fountains of air.

Sighing, he heard her crying, crowned head, hung in shame.
"What can I do to heal her pain?", his mind did pace.
Then into his head, the idea came: "I shall mimic the rain!"
Gathered his wisest engineers, laid his plans on silk and lace.
Building fields of fountains green, to gently blow; dissipate her pain.
Promised to fill her empty space, head and heart, smile and face.
The king, he did proclaim: "For you my queen, nature, I will tame!"

With mud and force; wood and screw; slowly, dreams made true.
Shaped an exquisite, mountainous menagerie of floral jewels, out of stone.
Queen Amyitis wiped her eyes with the delightful hues in her view.
Nebuchadnezzar bought back the loan by building memories of her home.
Two dynasties entwined by love conquering design, imbued with glue.
For every emerald that was sewn, Amyitis' happiness had overflown.
Beauty spawned in Babylon, on hanging Gardens, sprinkling dew.