The harp is made to play laments,
and her fingers pluck its strings
mournfully in mellifluous torment.
Notes spill like dawn birdsong
from the instrument she clings,
as if it were the first song
the harp had learnt to sing.
Her velvet gown is black as night,
the harp of ebony made,
but light shimmers golden bright
from the hair of the heartbroken maid.
Kim M. Russell, 20th May 2020
Sanaa is back with poems by Christina Georgina Rossetti, an old favourite of mine. I remember her poems from school, some of which I first knew as songs, hymns, and carols. What I like about her poems is that they are economical, never too long, and often focus on the natural world.
Sanaa challenges us to write while inspired by the works of Rossetti – with a twist: we have the option to choose her poems OR paintings by her brother, Dante Gabriel Rossetti. I chose a visual prompt, ‘The Harp Player’, and tried to emulate the poet’s style.