Painted Paradise
In his ever-burning search for glory,
like the raining petals of the lilac,
his hands shake, making his rings
clank as he grasps the brush to paint,
while the colors blur together in a trance
that recalls his personal Avalon.
Unlike the perfection of the Avalon
of Arthur’s time, this paradise paints
a more tainted glory
where darkness entrances
and bells don’t ring,
yet the air swarms with lilac.
The sky, the color of lilac,
shines its shaded rays in rings
across the shimmering trance-
like fields that scream glory,
yet he begins to slip, losing Avalon
into the streaking smudges of paint.
The oil-covered paint
canvas gleams with the lost Avalon,
now confined to shades of lilac
and an unfulfilling glory
that wavers like a trance
in the painted rings.
On his left-hand fingers, the rings,
splattered with paint,
promise him the glory
of regained Avalon,
like soft petals of lilac
soothing his fingers into trance.
Moving through the fluid trance,
less hindered by the rings,
with all senses consumed by lilac,
he begins to paint
fueled by Avalon
and longed-for glory.
Breaking out of the trance, he
paints lilacs ringing his head
to gain the glory of Avalon.
(c) 2000 Ann Lesley Hamvas
