Lady Lavender in Extremis

Foxglove in a Washington, DC garden

She came sailing in —
foxgloves in murder digitalis
shape-shifters in book-covered heat
an Austen novel in her head
pharmacopœia of bottled lust
in everyone else’s closet Gothic
unholstered in a room of Macbeths
unshriven, exhumed desire
— sailing in, lighting torches
blanketed fire,
lavender swan.

Merril's Quadrille #113: "Blanket Us" for dVerse
A dVerse quadrille is a poem of exactly 44 words. 
Click on Mr. Linky to read more and join in!

Author: dorahak

The unearned splendor of being means we can always meet on a common plane of gratitude, aiming in conversation, art, or writing towards “something understood.”

52 thoughts on “Lady Lavender in Extremis”

    1. Exactly what I was going for, and I thank you for your reading; it encourages me to think I got my cauldron of ideas across. Thank so much, Bjorn.


  1. One word.. WOW! So much to love here especially; “an Austen novel in her head pharmacopœia of bottled lust in everyone else’s closet Gothic.” 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thank you so much, Xan. And I second that sentiment, poets do rule, or as Shelley wrote, they’re the “unacknowledged legislators of the world.” Same 🙂


  2. I love this – brings to my mind Agatha Christie murder mysteries. I especially love the closing lines: ‘blanketed fire/lavender swan’: something dangerous hidden beneath an attractive exterior.

    Liked by 1 person

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