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The Minoan Girl

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III


White hot bright sun reflects on broad-paved court.
Three girls unsmiling stand in glistening sweat.
Prepared to face the bull in sacred sport.
In turn young beauty’s trial pays parent’s debt.
And now it comes to me to leap. I set
Myself and draw a draught of air so sweet;
The bull’s head rears, one touch and spinning high, yet
Sky, scarlet-streaked, falls wet on flying feet.
No pain, no sense of torment. Silence and gasps meet -
In gypsum-walled Queen’s bed you laid me down
You changed my blood-red windings, soothed the heat,
Your kisses fell like honey, smoothed my frown,
As death's hands held me tight you wiped my brow -
Sweet summer's girl, if I swam to you, would you kiss me now?​
 
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pkindenhaag said:
III


White hot bright sun reflects on broad-paved court.
Three girls unsmiling stand in glistening sweat.
Prepared to face the bull in sacred sport.
In turn young beauty’s trial pays parent’s debt.
And now it falls to me to leap. I set
Myself and draw a draught of air so sweet;
The bull’s head rears, one touch and spinning high, yet
Azure sky, scarlet-dappled, falls wet on flying feet.
No pain, no sense of torment. Silence and gasps meet -
In gypsum-walled Queen’s bed you laid me down
You changed my blood-red windings, soothed the heat;
Your kisses fell like honey, smoothed my frown.
A day and night as death embraced, you wiped my fever’d brow.
I look down on the sea – sweet summer's girl, if I swam to you, would you kiss me now?​
Click to expand...
Lovely and so beautiful PK!
 
A wonderful episode, I could feel the heat, the sand beneath my feet, see the crowd and the bull. Later after the accident I could see our heroine lying injured in her sick bed and feel her angst and irritation at being so not herself. All conveyed in that lyrical style that carried the tones of ancient poets to our ears.

Really a great piece :)
 
This site is full of wonderful writing and everyone who plays with their pen (or keyboard) knows how hard it can be.... You get the germ of an idea.... you're excited....you want to put it into words.... The first line (the hardest, but then somehow also the easiest) comes.... you're probably driving or something and have to hold it in your mind til you can write it down... Then you become a slave to the little creature.... nurturing it and in equal measures being tortured by it.... And then - whoof! - it's done....
And then you start looking again.... and seeing all your baby's little flaws....
And that's where having a muse and mentor is so so important.... And feeling safe.... (I feel very safe here)... Eulalia is my muse for sure.... I really adore the little suggestions you've made - proving as ever that less is always more, just as much as Blue is always Hot.... And I do hope you'll use your magic pen to change my text with your ideas - then it will be ours, which will be very very nice flower2XXXX
 
I love the way you describe what happens, I relate to it so much, and I'm sure other writers here have the same experience.

Like I've said in PM, sometimes I see something that's so accomplished and full of promise, I feel that giving it the close reading and critical attention it deserves is above simply praising it.
As you're happy with my small suggestions, I'll tweak as you ask, but the poems are 100% yours! :clapping:
(Remember how Ezra Pound struck out more than half of Eliot's draft for The Waste Land, but what was left was still Eliot's ;))
 
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