Love stretched the years
a perished elastic band.
But trickling through the hourglass
was a finite stream of sand
A courtesan out of favour,
an empty shuttered room,
the untended garden,
where roses fail to bloom.
No one spoke the words that
no one wants to hear.
A tangled muted history,
cloaked in fluid fear
Forgotten was the joy,
like laughter in the rain,
hidden under blankets
as the years came round again
left an open sore
A moribund truth revealed
That love once lay at the core
Eyes are often blind
to the tangled superhighway
Of the heart and the mind
As new ground is stepped upon,
lessons must be learned.
Love-blind eyes cover up,
the fingers that are burned.
Now a sadness sweeps the chess board,
where blame plays no part,
leaving just an echo,
of two broken hearts.
of what is wrong and
what is right
but hold fast that true love
was worth a monumental fight.
Focus on the rocky road
and carry the light,
to keep your path to happiness,
always within sight.
18 comments:
You and I are on the same page tonight with with our posts. I hate seeing heartbroken people out there...I dread deeling wih it at home. We must have some cusp or sign in common!
I have not commented before but in this poem I recognized a truth.
We shouldn't ever let love go without a struggle, if we do then we are open to a lifetime of regret, I know this.
Many people don't realize that it doesnt matter who is wrong or who is right, just that two lives have been altered and both are heart broken. I wish I had come across this poem years ago.
What perverse power we give love when we make it dependent upon requital.
How dare we thrust trust upon someone without their knowing how they can now disappoint us?
What flowers are more beautiful dying in a vase than blooming forever in a garden?
How true is an affection that requires a contract?
A lovely roll of words there Minx, It rhymes too! Made me sniffle a bit too! :-)
Then I hope the common link is that these hearts are on the way to mending, Roberta. Everyone deserves happiness.
Breakages shouldn't have to be paid for, Anon. I agree, you have to move forward and as far as possible without any regret knowing that you did the best you could under the circumstances.
Thank you, Fatboy.
Even the garden can be taken over with weeds if we do not tend it, G&G.
Big hug to you, Jon, I think you need one as well.
I absolutely love that poem, I read it aloud with my best pseudo British accent, and it was divine.
The picture is stunning. Where do you find those!
Very good indeed.
Scarlett & Viaggiatore
Ta mate! :-)
that's beautiful... and I agree love's worth fighting for.
-Marjolein
Oh my, that was close to home.
"Focus on the rocky road and carry the light, to keep your path to happiness, always within sight."
I think I'll make that my mantra for awhile.
Thanks, Scarlett, nice to see you again. I use Stumbleupon a lot - you can find the most amazing pictures/art/articles in there.
You're welcome, Jon. Your loss is of a different kind and both require that we go through the grieving process.
If the embers are still lit then it is always worth fighting for, Marjolein. When you find that your head is just hitting a nail infested wall then it is time to stop.
We are not responsible for the happiness of others, HM. Finding our own happiness is the only way we can walk a joint and equal path with someone else.
:)
A real insightful poem Minxy... I hope you are ok. I still have the smaller of the two basques and the orange tights as well as the dog collar and whip - should you wish any of the back... I am afraid that the other basque disintegrated in the wash.
Smiling back, Babs.
Jeez, Muts, I have been looking for those tights everywhere! I hope you haven't been wearing them - orange tights and leg hair is not a good combination.
Oh thank you....not.
I had been to Chick with a quill last night, and had left with a pleasant dreamy story idea floating through me, and I stopped in here, just for a moment to read over this post, before going to bed, figuring I would come back today and re-read it when fully awake. I then went up to bed and the wholes story morphed and went off in another direction and turned out rather sad (plus it kept me up late, jotting the bits of it down)
That said, beautiful statue, and clearly over-all poem effect was of high impact. I should re-read it today, so as to comment on it better (more fully grasp it), but I am more hesitant than eager sat the moment.
at the moment
not sat the moment
though I am sitting down
I think 'hesitant' is in my personal dictionary at the moment, Taff. Feel free, read or not - tis just emotions that were scribbled a few weeks ago and part of my healing.
I feel like a donkey's butt (wanted to say patootie, but how is it spelled?....A....S.... ).
I had no idea when I responded that real life circumstances inspired your poem.
( Ugh, I can't believe I complained about how it tinged my story with sadness. Well okay I can believe I did, but wish I couldn't.
Sorry
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