excerpt from Adèle and Gilbert

The passage that follows is excerpted from Adèle and Gilbert, a long narrative poem set in Gothic France and written as an allegorical romance. Gilbert narrates, quoting Adèle and then himself.

The Green Cathedral

 

“I slowly turned then walked the pathway

Leading to the brook

Where, in our youth, our separate hearts,

A single beat o’ertook.

 

“Two sets of billowed willows lined

The banks above the stream

And filtered from the sunlight

Any harshness from its beams.

 

“The columns of the willows bore

An intricate relief,

Which God had crafted knowingly,

Arranged of vine and leaf.

 

“The columns’ branches vaulted up,

O’er reaching till they clave,

Enclosing stream and garden bed

Within a verdant nave.

 

“I lingered in the garden that

We cultured by the stream,

Our chancel where betwixt us, we

We partook our childhood dreams,

 

“And where we laughed and gently played

The games that children play

Before our dreams and innocence

A savage world unmade.

 

“The densely knitted swallow’s songs

Retraced each other’s flow,

And in the choir re-echoed hymns

A gentle God composed.

 

“I laid a rose’s petals on

The grass in heart-like shape

Then placed the verse thou penned for me

Atop the silken crepe.

 

“The flowery altar’s sacred scent

Suffused the brookside air

With nectarous incense God had lit

To sweeten votive prayer.

“I prayed that God would ride with thee

And vouchsafe thy return

To recreate ourselves in me

And seal our love extern’.

 

“I opened up my glazéd eyes

To gaze upon thy verse

And felt a rising passion that

My heart had not rehearsed.

 

“In days to come, thy precious verse

The north wind swept away,

But ere it did, upon my heart,

Thy love its words inlaid.”

 

That said, she let her eyelids fall

Upon her glittered eyes.

Then slipped into a distant dream,

Reciting whilst she cried.

 

So moved she was, her voice changed cast,

Assuming soulful tone

To dress an altered cadence more

Relaxed and lilting grown.

 

My frayed and tender heartstrings her

Recital gently nursed

With rhapsody of yesteryear

Whilst, touched, she quoth my verse:

 

Gilbert’s Poem to His Adèle

 

“Thy most gracious and beauteous being doth gleam

A vision so pristine, so pure

That the poet within me is summoned to sing,

And the beast in my heart is abjured.

 

“What a sonorous melody sounds in thy breast,

With tempo so faithful, so calm

That it renders the rage from a warrior’s breast

And provisions the want with its balm.

 

“The empyrean spice of thy soul doth exalt

The places thy presence perfumes.

Its intoxicant lulls and entices my heart

To enrapture itself on the fumes.

“Thy deft, feathery touch sets my spirit a’hum,

Like gently stroked strings on a lyre,

And elicits a tone from my heart that I’d never

Heard played, for a want of desire.

 

“Thy sweet innocence freshens my palate with tastes

That are delicate, choice, sublime,

And its nectarous aftertaste lingers about

With a savor that waxes with time.

 

“The remembrance of thee, like a mirror, reflects

The image thine essence ingrained.

Its ethereal luster on memory falls

With the softness that morning mists rain.”

 

Distant Vistas and Flashing Jade

 

She finished, but her jadestone eyes

Stayed shuttered whilst she wept,

And whilst they were, she knelt in grace,

Affixed upon the step.

 

But elsewhere did it seem her mind

Had wandered whilst she cried,

Affixed to distant vistas she

Beheld with inner eyes.

 

I wondered what it was she saw

That cast her in such grace,

Provoking tears of sorrow, which,

A’glisten, streaked her face.

 

Sweet memories and dear Adèle’s

Appearance, swathed by grace,

Combined to summon tears of joy

That long had been displaced.

 

I sought to summon my Adèle

From where it was she dwelled,

That I might tend with empathetic

Words the tears that welled.

 

“Adèle,” I wept, “Adèle, Adèle,

It’s God’s unfathomed art

That’s led my erring footsteps to

The lodestone of my heart.

“What saved thee and what fetched thee forth

Are not my heart’s concern.

Rejoice in our reunion. Let

Thy days of woe be spurned.”

 

The words I spoke scare registered

Before I saw her flinch

When pressed she close her eyelids

Ere they, flashing jade, unclenched.

 

And then her torso slightly moved

Most gently to and fro.

The movement waxed progressively

Until she swayed in throes.

 

Whilst simple, pristine grace transformed

To passion, unrestrained,

A terror struck my heart, which wit

And sense could scarce restrain.

 

By increments, my dear Adèle

Began to leash her throes,

And ere my heart recovered, once

Again she knelt, composed.

 

Whatever conflict seized her heart,

She’d managed to resolve,

And, resolute, she undertook

The tasks her heart devolved.

 

A brackish crust began to form

Where glistened tears had shone.

Resolved and keenly focused, she

Resumed in stoic tone:

 

“Again I beg forbearance, for

To stop me would be cruel.

So harken to my fable, love,

Before thou play the fool.”

 

Her change of face had been so stark,

So earnest, so abrupt

That, well rebuked, ’twould be some time

Before I’d interrupt.

 

I listened, then, with tongue a’leash

To words my heart caressed

But shuddered at, on hearing what

It was Adèle confessed: