Tintern Abbey Flamingo and Monks
🦩 Moonlit Abbey Waltz
In velvet dusk, the flamingo struts,
Past arches worn and ivy cuts.
Pink shades gleam in lunar light,
Where monks once prayed through silent night.
No glass remains, yet moonbeams pass
Through phantom panes of shattered glass.
The abbey breathes, its stones awake—
Ghosts in robes begin to quake.
They rise in chant, a spectral choir,
Their echoes twined with feathered fire.
The flamingo bows, absurd yet grand,
A guest of ghosts in sacred land.
🕯️ A Monk’s Reflection Upon the Flamingo
We rose from stone, from moss and mist,
Our chants long lost, our robes sun-kissed.
The moon, our bell, through phantom glass,
Summoned us from ages past.
But lo! What bird in velvet red
Now walks where solemn feet once tread?
Its neck a curve of noble grace,
Its eyes—pink shades—defy this place.
No psalter, no censer, no vow to keep,
Yet still it stirs what once did sleep.
We gather round, in silent awe,
This flamingo, priest of surreal law.
It bows, absurd, yet strangely right—
A pilgrim clothed in lunar light.
And so we chant, not to condemn,
But to welcome the bird to our requiem.
🌕 Moonlit Dialogue: Flamingo & Monk at Tintern Abbey
Flamingo:
I came in velvet, dusk my veil,
To walk where prayers once rode the gale.
My feathers hum with silent grace—
A pilgrim in this haunted place.
Monk:
We rose from stone, from moss and lore,
To greet the guest who walks our floor.
No creed you bear, no vow you speak,
Yet in your gaze, the sacred leaks.
Flamingo:
I wear no cross, no rosary,
But moonlight grants me liturgy.
The arches sing, the windows gleam—
Reflections born of glassless dream.
Monk:
Then join our chant, surreal and slow,
Where time dissolves and spirits flow.
We bless your strut, your velvet rite—
A flamingo clothed in twilight.
Flamingo:
I bow to ghosts, to abbey’s breath,
To rites that dance beyond all death.
Let feathers flare and silence ring—
Tonight, even monks shall swing.
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