The Universe of Green, a Ballad

A Universe of Green, of healing elvish magic,
A Universe of Green – behind her laughing eyes,
Beyond the gentle hands, the body – supply-agile –
A Universe of Green that decadence belies.*

A Universe of youth, of ever aging backwards,
Beyond the gates of jade, the sea of emerald waves,
Beneath the proud sky, of clouds who sing and banter,
A Universe where dreams are nourished, never quelled.

Of melancholy songs, of malachite that grows
In groves of oak trees, where elvish magic reigns,
A Universe where rain will play upon the roads
Of chocolaty mint, a world without reins…

A Universe of truth, beyond her eyes of laughter,
Where lateness is the worst  - demonic sin and crime,
And penalized by death, with quartering right after,
But pardoned – we should hope – for elegance in rhymes.

A Universe of jade, where visa is an honor
For honest and elite, the punctual, the few,
A Universe of Her – benevolent, but monarchy;
Where codes forbid the trite, “ungreen” and petty feuds.

A Universe where spite and jealousy and envy –
As green as they may be – are exiled and banned,
Where every spring and creek – in spring, and fall, and ever –
Are playing “Sleeves of Green,”  with winds and elms - a band.

A Universe of Green, behind the youthful smile,
In time and space and beauty it knows no end…
So mild to its allies, so ruthless to the wily,
It well behooves the clever to make the Queen their friend.

A land of dreams and quests, of victory and Laurel,
“Lalaic” is the parlance, a blend of elvish tongues:
It’s musically amusing, a lore – ironic, lordly,
Imaginative, magical – beyond the breath of lungs…

A Universe of Green, of elvish healing magic;
Another kingdom stands – a Universe of Blue,
Alas, among the meteors, the worlds are ever fragile
And pop – in hungry blackness – like innocent balloons.

The worlds collide and mesh, in truce, in true alliance,
But not without a jolt, a jar, a jam, a bang:
The waves of green and blue unite and go flying,
The sentries bear swords, and arrows and fangs.

The breakers crash and clash, in harmony  - or battle?
The Universes shake, and quiver Space and Time…
Has Armageddon come? – cacophony and rattle…
What is the final verdict – destructive or sublime?

Beyond the highest wave, the looming stormy clouds
Perhaps a truce is born, alliance – no lies…
The black and hungry void engulfs (and gulps aloud)
Whatever stands alone – it’s gluttonous and blind.

The Universe of Green – artistic, proud kingdom,
The Universe of Blue  - a genius of worlds…
Perhaps the forces join, without an infringement,
Perhaps the future holds a bluish-green reward…


*Belie – here it means “to prove false, to negate.”




   Poet unknown, but extremely talented…