A Rainbow

                Our talk had been serious and sober,
                But our thoughts they were palsied and sere...
                –E.A. Poe

Passing me, trudged last encumbering August,
A villain of sorts, causing solely disgust.
No wonder was welkin revoltingly blue,
And golden unsettling womb outblew,
Turning molten, as air and asphalt,
The precious entrails of my cranium.
Combined with monotonus fields all around
Perception resembled Ukrainian flag.
Unhelped by the brilliant Ukrainian Black,
My malady, save neoclassical desolate melodies,
Was solaced by different curious remedy:
Ubiquitous colours reminded of Reverie,
The luminous Princess I'd seen only once;
That vision'd been dim, but some reverend
Psychic divisions remembered at glance
Her features as keen as a valiant lance:
These fairest long locks, whole skyful of eyes...
But could've that suffice?! —
Oh, faithful romance! One daydreams of the
Far-Away Princess, THE Dream; must be hyperdreaming!
But never I ever met Reverie's gleam while living.
Let down me the pair blue plus golden,
I started preferring sky-grey, brown and auburn
(No set and particular order), inferring emboldened:
If so, may my personal Dream incarnate in October?
The month of unprim! Ain't grey-clouded your skies?
Won't leaves of a chestnut reveal me another surprise?
And only the pine-tree'll stand perfectly sober,
Her fair swaying bole will be charmingly sober.

Сентябрь 2015