Cloris and The Potion of Life

Cloris and The Potion of Life

A Poem by Christopher Laverty

I have a tale as strange as fantasy -

of deadly passions and possessive rage,

of gains in knowledge thrown in jeopardy -

set in Messina - in the dawning age

of voyages of bold discovery -

of muskets, cannons, and the printed page -

a small and charming city, yet a place

where wild events imperiled once our race.


Alexis was a keen, inquiring sort,

a bachelor that studied medicine -

and he it was, whom creatures - green and short -

were spying on, in hopes by theft to win

a potion that he worked on, which could thwart -

if drank - disease and death. Full was his bin

with failed, discarded formulas - and pale

his skin, from labours yet of no avail.


Another thing had turned his face this hue -

distracting him, depriving him of rest,

of appetite, of any joy he knew

until that day - that day his interest

was caught by her - by Cloris. Though it true

they'd not exchanged a word - it would arrest

his mind to recollect her - make it fraught

with vain hopes - burden every waking thought.


Burden it was to love with little hope,

to struggle with a passion true and pure -

of such a fierceness he could barely cope.

Seen at a service - modest and demure

in bearing, fair in feature - to elope

with her he'd dreamt of nightly - but a cure

he needed now - as soon his dreams were buried -

upon discovering that she was married.


Damon - distinguished in the cavalry,

was this her husband that he envied much.

At other Masses - since that day - he'd see

them stand together - yet her face was such

you would not think her happy. Carelessly

she seemed to glance at him - which brought a touch

of hope - but snatched soon was its gasping breath,

by tidings of her sudden puzzling death.


Plunged into bitter, inconsolable grief -

he shut himself indoors, and would not eat

nor sleep. Mortality - the callous thief

had torn all joy from him. Almost complete

was his formula now, with his belief -

revitalised - that death he soon could cheat -

death he could cheat. The very thought rekindled

his hope for her - whom nature from him swindled.


Galvanized he toiled all day and night,

unresting in his hurried quest to find

the secret to elixir - said to fight

all pains and maladies of humankind.

Patient those gnomes were watching - out of sight -

their eagerness unshakable and blind.

Finally - nearing midnight - he held up

the finished formula inside a cup.


Cloris was buried in her family tomb,

for hours she'd lain inside it undisturbed.

Found at the city's outskirts - it had room

for many occupants. Although perturbed

to think that he a body would exhume,

his apprehensiveness he quickly curbed,

and in the small hours of the next day

he came and through the graveyard made his way.


Her coffin found, slowly he opened it.

To see her - motionless there - made him pause,

made him - overwhelmed with feelings - sit.

Untouched by time, lovely in death she was -

as though she slept. Only his lantern lit

the solemn scene around. Removing the gauze

from off the vial he'd brought, he took the potion

and held it to her lips - but then saw motion.


He saw her move - before a drop she drank -

open her eyes - as death she seemingly shook -

and slowly rise. Startled - he quickly shrank.

Had sleep for death in error been mistook?

What spinner of our fates had he to thank

to see her breathe again? Again to look

on her - and feel his passion burn inside -

which rumour only recently denied.


Looking around the tomb she saw him there -

and her surprise increased when recognition

took hold. Frozen with fear the fated pair

exchanged some glances. Was he an apparition?

she thought, as round her shoulders fell her hair.

He saw no signs of slight decomposition

around her youthful, full and glowing features -

as all the while looked on those impish creatures.


They'd followed him unnoticed to her grave,

scheming to seize the mixture when they could.

These dwellers of the earth would such things crave

to benefit themselves - and little understood

what paths to sure destruction they might pave

for those that dare to dabble. Hushed they stood -

after they'd scurried through their native earth,

where guarding goldmines is their task from birth.


Unknown to him in secret she had felt

a passion for him equal to his own.

The serpent love within her daily dwelt,

and many times she gave a stifled groan

to see him, while her sighing heart would melt.

Gladdened to find herself with him alone -

she asked him who he was, and why he came;

he then began to speak - though half in shame:


'Alexis is my name. Madam, excuse

any presumption on my part - I meant

not to alarm you. I had heard sad news

of your untimely passing. Not content

to think your lovely features I might lose

forever - with this drink I came - intent

in testing it on you. I find you though -

alive - your hue unchanged; how is this so?'


'You may not know my husband' - then she said,

'My marriage was arranged to Damon. Him

my parents chose - unhappy I was wed.

A victim to his every mood and whim

I sought escape from misery - which led

to drinking herbs that freeze up every limb,

bringing a lifeless sleep. So dead I seemed.

Entombed - to live in happiness I dreamed.'


They held each other, giving much expression

to surging feelings long suppressed within.

Alexis soon forgot his deep depression

to think that his desire he seemed to win.

He lay the potion down. To take possession -

a gnome trod near - as soundless as a pin.

Suddenly footsteps came around the door -

and looking up - entwined - they Damon saw.


'What scene is this on which I make intrusion?

I come to pay my last respects, and yet -

find that the dead is living? An illusion

perhaps? And who is this? My friend - we've met

before, I think.', he said with grave expression.

'My wife you wish? Well - this you will regret.'

He drew his sword and struck him in the chest;

down fell Alexis, while his wound he pressed.


As Damon left them, Cloris held her lover -

bleeding and gasping, he could barely speak.

His mortal injury she tried to cover -

he pointed to the vial while growing weak.

She understood his sense - but going over

to bring this only cure - she gave a shriek.

Belonging to a gnome - a tiny hand

appeared, and snatched the mixture as it planned.


Pursuing hastily the gnome outside,

she wandered round the tranquil cemetery.

Hearing the sound of giggles hushed and snide -

she searched its paths and saw a sturdy tree,

and there behind its trunk the creature spied -

where many more had gathered round to see

this healing drink. Upon a mound he held

the mixture high, and wild with rapture yelled:


'This medicine', he said, 'will give us life

eternal - with which we can build our empire -

expand our goldmines - ease our daily strife.

Its properties will mean we'll never tire,

never be injured by the axe or knife,

or accident of earthquake, flood or fire.'

Cloris - in overhearing this - with dread

was greatly filled, and interrupting said:


'I'm begging you - give me this liquid back;

my friend within is injured - only this

can save him from that unprovoked attack.'

He stood beside the hole to an abyss -

where lay their tunnels - of the blackest black -

and took a sip - with eyes that told of bliss.

Excited, all the gnomes watched on, as he

laughed with malevolent, unruly glee.


'Now I'm a god of gods, a king of kings',

he cried, while inching near the burrow's edge.

'Invincible, fearing naught, now I have wings -

I'm like a bird upon a window ledge.'

Not watching where he danced, looking at things

not there - he raised the vial as if to pledge

some oath to someone - as if under spell -

then lost his footing - dropped the glass - and fell.


Hearing his fading echo, Cloris saw

the vessel and retrieved it from the ground.

Some mixture it contained still. This she bore

back to the mausoleum, where she found

Alexis barely breathing. Trying to pour

some potion in his mouth, a coughing sound

she heard, then saw his still and bloodied lips

moving. He woke - and took some further sips.


Watching his wounds like magic disappear,

Alexis stood and held her. Cloris told

of what had happened then, of which to hear

he took the glass and said: 'It may bring gold

for some - but also dangers - which I fear.

And so - I must destroy this stuff I hold.

Come now, and while we can let's leave here fast.'

So saying went they, hand in hand at last.

© 2025 Christopher Laverty


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Added on October 5, 2025
Last Updated on October 5, 2025

Author

Christopher Laverty
Christopher Laverty

Cornwall, England, United Kingdom



About
I am a Cornish poet born in 1977 in Penzance. I have worked as a teacher and my hobbies include reading, music, films, walking and travelling. I have been published in Reach Poetry Magazine, Runcib.. more..