A Poet’s Dilemma
While he’s walking by the shore;
Look, as the crimson Sun sets
bringing fire to the night sky
much like his erased regrets
instantly blaze in his eyes.
The sandpipers go flying
they have somewhere else to go
a fitter place for dying
but how the hell do they know?
As the tide’s ebbing away
he recalls them hand in hand
planning for their wedding day.
What did he not understand?
They had their love songs to sing
but the mood soon changed to blue
their union ring meant nothing
and their songs became untrue.
His lonely walk yesterday
expressed in that fervent sky
that she was just shadow play
now gone, and he wonders why?
Tears got in the way.
While he’s hiding in his poems;
Dawn’s light of expectation
climbs o’er the city’s skyline
blurs his sense of deflation
as desire and hope entwine.
He recalls their love’s delights
dark skies cradling the “birth moon”
the ceaseless joy of the nights
and how they ended too soon.
The words have all gone flying
they had somewhere else to go
a better place for crying.
How the hell was he to know?
He had those poems to write
but his muse has disappeared.
Their rhythm’s now in hindsight.
His poems have all turned weird.
His regrets come wafting back
There is a fire in his eyes
He writes like a maniac
then gone, and he wonders why?
Tears got in the way.