Someone softly speaks, across the hall - I can hear
The sweetness in their tone, as it strokes the chandelier.
There seems to be some care, in the quiet rendezvous,
While I sit and listen, to the words, passing through.
A parting cloud has graced the ground, and now
I see the light of day again, through the window, and around.
It spreads throughout the building, encouraging optimism,
Shade has been forgotten, yet invented in its revision.
Birds outside have come to bathe, in their tiny water dish,
Fluttering like new leaves in spring, with no single thing amiss.
Now clean, they fly away, to a place no mind can stray,
Leaving feathers as remembrance while the joy they spread fades.
In knowing lies complication, in expecting, and in truth,
Consideration given to others is not always returned.
Old frustrations and fresh worries, in spite of the lessons learned,
Are lost upon an audience, both degenerate, and uncouth.
The sorrow a heart is given, seeps, and begins to split,
So once a heart knows, even mended, it never forgets.
Ambiguity may be the cure, dissonance mayhaps the cause,
But what can be said for certain, in the meaningless quandary,
Of love and its beauty, of affection and its appeal -
Is that love is appreciation, as it is a throbbing scar,
And that affection is the verse completed, but left unfinished;
It is kindness without sincerity: the fictional memoir.
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Author:
Nicholas Browning (
Offline) - Published: December 16th, 2020 22:01
- Comment from author about the poem: Hope you enjoyed.
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 31
- Users favorite of this poem: jarcher54, Caring dove
Offline)
Comments3
A very fine, subtle tour de force. I appreciate the simple descriptive first three stanzas, the overheard words, the shadows and sun, the birds flitting away... then the inward turn at the end. I am frankly startled by the phrase "kindness without sincerity." Elusive, enigmatic, insightful. Thank you.
Insight in mystery is what I try to convey most of the time. Sadly, not all people are as interested in sifting through the inquiries of life and its labors. You said my work was a "subtle tour de force." That implies that you noticed that the simplicity of the poem was intentional in order to convey a message as straightforwardly as possible. I don't know how you did it with such ease, especially since I haven't posted in months and you probably haven't read my other work, but your saying so will keep me humbled for the rest of my life. Someone as well-read as yourself giving such insight is heartwarming. Thank you for taking the time to read and comment; it is greatly appreciated.
I really can't believe that the difference between the best poets, like maybe Yeats or Symborska, and others like some of the best on MPS, is a chasm such that their achievement, in beauty and intense effect and the like, is beyond our skills. Your poem yields much that I appreciate, and I could immediately sense the combination of workmanship and serendipity that came together in it, the ambition (in the best sense of the word) that led to its coming together and being offered up to others.
a triumphantly melodic poem you've penned, really like the flow and set-up to the 'slap' of a twist at the end,
a wonderful read
Thank you very much for your comment. I'm very sorry it took me so long to respond, but it is greatly appreciated. I'm thrilled that you enjoyed it.
A deeply beautiful read ! I love this 🙂🙂 made me smile …. It flows so nicely
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