1
I harbour you
in my darkest thought,
I am your shield against
the mole blind day.
This night of our creating
will hold the marching hours at bay.
2
All our passionate moments
are scattered. The dead can
do nothing but stare
at us, blind lovers
whose love is dying,
while the present seeps away.
3
We celebrate no more
those ceremonies of tenderness
that bound us close before.
The heart does not forget.
We pass autumnal evenings
misty with regret.
4
Divided by
the histories of space,
the geographies of time,
yours is the face
that haunts me
in passages of rhyme
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Comments
Maybe, but a comfortable finish to a lovely piece.
I think my faves gallery will soon be loaded with your work.
--
I wrote a little boat
Into existence
It floated down the stream
At my insistence.
We pass autumnal evenings
misty with regret.
First, autumnal is a word I would use in every poem if I could shoehorn it in there. Second I do think regret is like a mist that slowly soaks to the core. This is good stuff. Thank you.
jfk
--
please stop by sometime
[link]
youarerighthereyouhavetakenthespaceoutofmywords
You might have noticed that I have used Autumnal as a title
--
There's always a better poem just out of reach.
Words create situations [link]
The roots of the future run deep [link]
What is real is not always true. What is true is not always real
--
There's always a better poem just out of reach.
Words create situations [link]
The roots of the future run deep [link]
--
There's always a better poem just out of reach.
Words create situations [link]
The roots of the future run deep [link]
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