May sextet/ Somewhere in my memory

This is Anne Boleyn- as seen by Thomas Wyatt. And me, while I stand aside and watch

Anne dreams of her childhood

As hours of night creep by.

Laughter, and garlands of flowers,

And fancy that's taking flight.

Anne dreams of her childhood 

As sunrise draws closer still,

Kings and queens in abundance,

All dressed in hand me down silks. 

Anne dreams of her childhood, 

As death draws so very near-

And rain in crystalline showers 

Washes away doubt and fear.

Anne dreams of her childhood 

Unmarred, unsullied, ideal-

She'd take back the paper crowns,

If she had more time and will.

Anne dreams of her childhood,

As girl in a grass-green gown

Still runs in the sunlit hours

Chasing her brother round...

Anne dreams of her childhood,

That seems to be broken and gone 

Could she ever think she would perish 

So early, forgotten and young?..

Anne dreams of her childhood-

The girl dressed in green and white,

She smiles at her as her guardsmen

Come, taking her out of sight.

Anne dreams of her childhood 

As shadow of death flies past,

She knows she will miss her daughter,

And roses of Hever's parks. 

***

I remember that May,

The dreadful May,

The days when the blood ran cold.

I remember that May,

The coldness of stones,

The days when the blood ran cold. 

I remember that May,

The month of woes,

The days when the blood ran cold. 

I remember that May,

The eyes of those, 

Who made all the blood run cold. 

I remember that May, 

The sneers and slurs

Of those who made blood run cold.

I remember that May, 

The scaffolds in works,

The view that made blood run cold. 

I remember that May,

The fears and thoughts 

That made all my blood run cold.

I remember that May, 

The tears and sobs, 

The days that made blood run cold. 

I remember that May,

The sight of those

Who made all the blood run cold. 

I remember that May,

Both fast and slow

The days that made blood run cold. 

I remember that day,

That sword-sharp day,

When my body and blood ran cold.

I remember it all,

And the eyes of those

Who watched as my blood ran cold.

I remember that May- 

It comes each year

To make all my blood run cold.

****

 I wonder why you wouldn't let me go,

Why haunt me through the darkened space?

I wonder why you follow high and low,

The past I can't wholeheartedly embrace?..

My headless queen of pain and woe, 

My queen of scorn, reproach and hate, 

You're always there, too bitter and alone 

To fight again with your dark fate.

Your eyes still follow me in dreams, 

Your voice, it echoes, laughs and cries,

Your face will never leave , it seems,

It taunts and wounds, but never lies.

And so I'm cursed by queen of May 

To die while living - every day.

****

Somewhere in my memory

She is still dancing 

On the misty paths 

Of the castle park.

Somewhere in my memory 

She is ravishing,

Dazzling, full of life

Like a new born rose.

Somewhere in my memory 

She is free.

Running through the mazes

Of Hever and Hampton Court

Somewhere in my memory 

She is too good 

To be true 

Like a dream within a dream.

Somewhere in my memory 

She is mine.

Glorious, shimmering 

Like a rare diamond.

Somewhere in my memory 

She smiles 

When she sees me

And kisses my cheek.

Somewhere in my memory 

She is alive 

And never cries

Or sighs in the dark.

My memory is the only place

She lives in,

For nothing is left of me,

But memory.

****

My muse is lame, it sings not to be heard,

But to reclaim the lute that broken lieth,

My muse is lame, yet full of spite and hurt

As heart of mine is chained to yours - alas!

Wherever roameth silent, ardent thought,

The heart, it meekly followes suit -

Wherever cries the sould, so frail and flawed,

The heart, it bleeds all dark and mute.

Forgive the heart that restess flies to you-

It knows not how to leave your face behind.

Forgive the verse that ringeth sharp and true

It has your name engraved in every line.

Oh do not judge so hard the one that yearns

For your embrace, your voice upon the wind, 

He is a fool, for he himself condones

For loving you against his will!

****

I've stumbled upon a book on Wyatt (Graven with diamonds by Nicola Shulman), a while ago, and as soon as I started it, a quiet voice with a distinct Tudor English sound came through. He was patient enough to let me work in modern - Shakespearean almost- way with his words. He paused when my kid cried - and finally we were done. That is what I wrote down.

P.S. The name Thomas was hunting me down even through evp stuff. 

I thank thee for rememb'ring me,

My fragile, unrequited love,

My verse of vanity and woe,

My pain of bloody courtly hue.

I thank thee for a candle lit 

On stones ungraced by human mind,

On graves of those who linger yet,

Of those who trail yet behind.

I thank thee fondly, lady sweet,

For being there for poet's plaint, 

I thank thee from the ashen bed

Of thoughts and bones unlaid to rest.

I thank thee, in my quiet voice

That ringeth in the summer air,

I thank thee - for by your own choice

You give us hope in thought and prayer. 

Do not depart, I beg thee - stay,

For we have not the length of time,

Do hold my hand- oh lady fair,

Remember me and love of mine.

Recall us from the gates of dust

Call out our names and bless the way,

Depart- but only if you must

To get thee back without delay.