Flower Girl Charlotte Honer In response to Shakespeare ’ s Hamlet and ’ Ophelia ’ by John Everett Millais
There she lies , a wildflower set on the stream where the willow droops its head . Her petals spread , delicately as the garlands she made : of ' nettles , daisies and long purples ' they say . Her skin as pale and soft as the snowdrop buds that peek excitably from the bank , clambering over their siblings to glimpse eyes on her . The river-moss over her like a gentle green cloth , just as she was gentle , so deliberately placed , as if put there for respect . At least the reeds cover her face , so only the stream itself has to witness it . Oh but how beautiful she is . Slightly parted orchid lips , tainted now a pale blue . Auburn Pre-Raphaelite hair , still in purposeful yet unconfined intertwining curls She belongs to all seasons : Spring in her dainty , floral nature , summer in her warmth . She is frozen but her warmth can still be felt deep within the core of the cascading rocks creating shadow over her face . Autumn in the rusts and bark of her hair . The winter ? She fights it , but it has coiled itself around her , slithering its forked tongue up her thighs . The winter is called Hamlet . Weep for her watery robes . Weep for her , a presence of elaborate fluidity above a crystal floor .
" Alas , then she is drowned '.