Wednesday, October 26, 2005

Tree of Letters - A Mystery Solved

Thinking of green hearts and things unresolved, I went to the Tree of Letters to find some answers. To my surprise Nature had caught one for me, from a long time ago. It was written on parchment in an elegant quill-formed hand. Puzzled, because I had no memory of it, I sat down under the tree near the profusion of violets in green, and cast my mind back. It read:
Dear Salamander (?),
Weeks, years, have passed since your mother found me wanting, and your father made me wait. I lower my fine hat brim as I write, against the Italian sun. The light blooms on the stone ruins of old, and I feel the warmth as I sit and write to you from far away. Ruins all around me of a Golden Age, I can only find respite in my pen. You would be resolute and angry in the English Countryside, dreaming of poets and colours. They didn't wait to let you come and see me, so I could only leave, knowing I was leaving part of myself behind.
Two years on the ring I sought to please you with lies untainted in my breast pocket, a shining example of love. The world has no choice but to leave love at it's last, and might I have any recourse to believe otherwise, none has come to me.
No letter from your fine pen has reached me in the Italian sunshine, no other has caught my eye. Letters fly from me to you, only to return to me in tatters. I will write until you notice that love does not die. It is only the suspicion of it that lives, back in the place where you were born.
I cannot believe you have not read any of my lines, my poems to you, -- I am dreaded to think these may have been intercepted by hands older than your own. Did you ever see them? Were they only drifts on the wind? White shades against the blue?
Write, as I may wait for you, in the Italian sun, stone warmed by light.
yours in the truest confidence,
Columbine (?) 1670 Italy.
I sat in silence, and wonder, at the tree that had saved this missive, in spite of older hands, so long ago. How was it that it came back to me at last? Green circles, perhaps?
copyright Monika Roleff 2005.


At 4:33 PM, Blogger Lois said...

Throughout history love has gone unrequited and stories abound of the dilema ..Like Romeo and Juliet and in many operas they tell of it in song...
When watching TV/Film of Jane Austen stories It seems to be an ongoing theme ..As we watch we see love truimph and other love (of convenience) seems ok for the times ...But....I am glad I did not live in those times.
A romantic might see Mr Darcy as a good sort of bloke ,but for me his future wife would need to be always extending herself in a life not acceptable in those times.
The story Columbine 1670 Italy, is not known by me (One day I will tell you Imogen of my lost years in education at a school of domestic science in South Melbourne way back in 194l, learning cookery,housekeeping,sewing with a little history of England thrown in)...No Columbine!A bereft educational experience
I looked up Columbine in the dictionary it says
"A plant that has brightly coloured flowers with 5 spurred petals"....
Imogen it seems that the theme of a love letter by Columbine is written over and over even today...
(Muse of the Sea) 27-10-05

At 9:36 PM, Blogger Imogen Crest said...

The theme I drew on here is a bit misty -- a general construction by myself of the theme of loss - names are fictitious you will be glad to note. Lizzy makes Mr Darcy into a better man, so he becomes better by her urgings. If only other men might listen like Mr Darcy. (The new film is out by the way and is different, but very good entertainment, lots of art) Even if there is something unrequited, I kind of got inspired by the thought of the letter tree and green heart leaves that there would be new hope next time around. The point I also thought about was the idea that people often put love last. Society often put love last in the past. You have done so much in your life. Love to hear of it! Columbines are gorgeous! Did you like the look of them? It is a shame so much of this story still goes on today, as you say. When are we going to get it? Blessings to you, as usual.


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