Dare Call Home

Clara

You can find me West of here

With his name upon my tongue 

Walking down the same old road

Asking anyone

Have you seen this man? 

With dark and greying hair

Eyes as brown as dirt

Holding love that shan't be lived. 

 

Have you seen him? 

He walks with his head high

Despite shoulders weighted with shame

His heart is full of love for me

But his feet point Westward too

Forever I shall walk behind

In shadow and in soul

I'll follow him wherever he shall go

This man I dare call home. 

  • Author: Clara Ipsum (Pseudonym) (Offline Offline)
  • Published: December 21st, 2020 15:14
  • Category: Unclassified
  • Views: 51
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Comments5

  • Jerry Reynolds

    Good read. Have a Happy Holiday and stay safe.

    • Clara

      Thank you Jerry. Merry Christmas to you and yours. Take care.

    • dusk arising

      A mystery of dark devotion lives within these lines. A single read leaves me wanting more, so, re-reading twice more I find it's atmosphere - haunting.

      Like romance in a thirties whodunnit in sepia tone.

      • Clara

        Hi Dusk,
        I'm so pleased you enjoyed this one. Your interpretation of it is absolutely great. In sepia tone... Spot on. Dark devotion, haunting. I'm pleased you got those feelings! Thank you for your comment as always.

      • Trenz Pruca

        Thank you. I enjoyed the poem.

        • Clara

          Thank you kindly.

        • Goldfinch60

          Very good write Clara, one day you will catch up with him and home will be full of love once more.

          Andy

          • Clara

            Thank you Andy. May be walking forever with this one - but never say never! 🙂

          • L. B. Mek

            relatable - at so many levels, for those with palate's that have been experience-scorched with all the varied guise's of love and more specifically to your write: trust,
            may we all treasure that simple gift imbued within our choices - allowing us, to entrust in something we deem essential to that solace we covet with every ounce of fervent hope, carried to and from - each breath, we chose to serenade our lives with...
            a wonderous dedication, emitting that seductive uncertainty of melancholy we treasure while brooding over our love's,
            beautifully worded - prioritising accessibility over poetic ambition,
            Happy Holidays dear Poet!
            thank you for inspiring my little scribbled reply



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