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Famous Laura Chouette Quotes

“The meadows lay weeping with tears like an emeralds gleam; while every nightingale is seeking the shelter of its only willow's green. - And silently, my step falls on leaves that carry me much further than I'd dream; for willows and thoughts are fading slowly while everything eternal is not seen and yet they keep so many of us in good company for some can not be on their own, nor can they be free. - So I found peace, the one eternal each one seeks and so I left my soul for emerald's gleam; while the meadow still lays weeping with grief over my grave so quietly for it lays beneath the shadow of its only willow's green.”

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Book:Profound Reverie
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“Hues of pale green, on delicate olive branches the soft rustling of somberness along the fields of gold that lay themselves to gentle rest after another long summer. I have nothing to bury under them except my own heart -that is my soul's greatest regret, once my lines begin to fill in autumn, under the velvet gloom of shortening days. The admiration of the Florentine sun had doomed my words to become eventually a remembrance once September falls in October's pale hands. I shall have nothing to grieve for once the winter arrives, coming over the distant hills and laying bare the orchards along his way. I doomed them to become ruins by overthinking, hoping - at least once too often - for change; So, let it be then. I will mourn my mere passion for life in the presence of death - though my art may be eternal.”

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Author:Laura Chouette
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“They fall silently the steps of her arrival - crossing snow so pale even the morning sky would fall into nights amber (if it knew of her ways & worth); for she has entered the palace of gold - her hair braided with hope tainted with autumn leaves that seem like a hanged man's rope - for her name is war and her crown is crafted out of grief.”

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Author:Laura Chouette
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“A HOTEL ROOM IN PARIS #31 At the bottom of the lonely window,
The sky looks almost velvety lilac. While at the top, the window frame
Seems to drown in front of an ocean of blue satin. White window frames in uneven walls
Cast no shadow, so the light projects the soul of each traveller instead. So I sit here in silence, filtering out the noise
That the boulevards inhabit and sing each day. Only the music I keep in my room, the silent solitude each one carries;
Carries far and – may I hope – home soon.”

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Book:The Willow Song
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“The City That Holds Me The sidewalks I stumble on more than once
Make me feel like I am walking home. The place cold enough to die for, Yet I walk towards the next day without freezing. The river that drowns my words,
As I wander its same stretch, up and down. My chapels know my favourite corners,
Where I light my candles each good Sunday.”

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Book:The Willow Song
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“Pothole in the Sky My veins ground too deep to become a statue,
And the flight is delayed too late—
So I take off again. I take off without the vein of the city
That lifts me to heaven with a million lights
And a few streets in between. The darkness blooms like a desert,
And in my aeroplane, I become a small flower,
Travelling too far and without sight. Clouds outside windows become a stair frame,
And the dark blue of mornings drifts by,
While I dream of Paris and every thought That drifted by.”

PoetryNostalgiaRomanticismDark AcademiaContemporary PoetryLiterary PoetryMelancholic PoetryEthereal SolitudePoetic ImageryTravel Poetry
Book:The Willow Song
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