Places I'Lyezette

My literal description: He watched her among the beech trees, picking up garden litter, buds, twigs and petals, fallen-flora; now advanced in years, her blue-veined hands shook with age, gout made her stumble, on the grass. My poem: Her likeness, arboreal, floated to his sense, among the canopies's dross; she, bustled by age, let nature’s corruption break through, showing rivers of sea, on languid limbs: and here on forest’s carpet, Atlas, in cruel pain, tipped his globe and fell. Written for I’Lyezette contest 6/7/15.