I was very struck by this poem which Lorenzo quoted in his comment on my Cornflower Blue post recently - so I reproduce it here.
Words to Accompany a Bunch of Cornflowers
Those beads of lapis, even the classical
Blues of dawn, are dimmed by comparison.
When I hand you this bunch of cornflowers
The only other color in the room
Illumines your eyes as you arrange them.
They are the blue reflection of whatever
Moves in you, serene as cool water tipped
Into crystal, oddly enough the willing bride
To a cloudy head of melancholy
So deeply blue it could prove musical.
This is the blue John Lee Hooker’s gravelly
Voice in the sundown field was looking for.
This is the unrequited dream of an iris.
Ice blue, spruce blue, little periwinkle blue—
Nothing else that dies is exactly so blue.
Blues of dawn, are dimmed by comparison.
When I hand you this bunch of cornflowers
The only other color in the room
Illumines your eyes as you arrange them.
They are the blue reflection of whatever
Moves in you, serene as cool water tipped
Into crystal, oddly enough the willing bride
To a cloudy head of melancholy
So deeply blue it could prove musical.
This is the blue John Lee Hooker’s gravelly
Voice in the sundown field was looking for.
This is the unrequited dream of an iris.
Ice blue, spruce blue, little periwinkle blue—
Nothing else that dies is exactly so blue.
GIBBONS RUARK
(This poem immediately brought to mind the 'Blaue Blume', the 'Blue Flower' symbol of German Romanticism, emblem of love, desire and impossible longing. I remember being strongly affected by this motif when reading Novalis, von Eichendorff and Goethe in the sixth-form at school - and later when studying German Literature at university.)
