I am he who walked and wandered
in the night; the days I’d squandered
rhyming, in my gloomy garret,
perched like a performing parrot.
Tethered, while the world was turning,
eating, hating, hurting, earning.
I am he who sat there seething,
broken, bowed and barely breathing;
pouring out my pain on paper.
(May seem like a comic caper
sharing sorrow in a sonnet
for the world to spit upon it. )
I am he who loves no other:
sister, son or dear old mother.
All did choose to love and leave me
when the girl who once did grieve me
messaged me this good-news greeting:
“Let's make a date, arrange a meeting!”
I am he who stood still, shaken.
Maybe I had been mistaken?
And the voice was only ghostly,
not the girl who I’d missed mostly.
Was she phantom or illusion
sent to share my sad seclusion?
I am he who fortune favoured.
Scent of sweet success I savoured
when I heard my goddess whisper
in a voice, so smooth and crisper
than the siren’s I’d grown used to
in the vale of vicious voodoo.
I am he who found my first love,
found my one and only true love.
Solid shape of breathing beauty
dared me not to do my duty.
“You jump first and I’ll jump after.”
She lay down in lines of laughter.
-
Author:
Blue-eyed Bolla (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: April 29th, 2020 05:54
- Comment from author about the poem: for my first love
- Category: Love
- Views: 18
Offline)
Comments3
This is beautiful. 🙂
Wonderful words Kevin, that first love now reborn is obviously treasured.
Andy
One and only true love, A rare and precious thing. Bound to last forever.
A terrific poem expressing how one can be literally saved by love. So true, so true. - Phil A.
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