Silent are the bellkeepers
who look down on the land.
Knights that kneel in reverence
bloodlet into sand.
Empty are the inkwells of
each poet, scribe, and mage;
Motionless is every string,
as each lute goes unplayed.
Pious are the godless now,
and petty is the priest;
But still we light a candle.
Pray before a feast.
Endlessness in memory,
A breath held for a thief;
Seasons are always stealing,
the color from our leaf.
Adorn your purple livery,
soak every fur in tears;
No winter can take from us
The love of warmer years.
Comments2
'Endlessness in memory,
A breath held for a thief;
Seasons are always stealing,
the color from our leaf.'
love these lines
a great write!
thanks for sharing, dear Poet
(Adomania, in a blink
Kairosclerosis, in a heartbeat
we scrape, all we can
from that bottomless barrel
we call a life
and then, it gets tipped over
so get to start, all over again)
luckily, we just title it
a New Year
so we can get sht faced
and 'cheers', all night long...
True that. I tried to write this for my friend whose mom is on her deathbed today. I didn't want to be too direct, but I hope she sees it on facebook, and knows.
Hard to come up with words in a normal fashion for such a tragedy. Been going around lately. Lets hope next year is better. : /
I'm so sorry, what a harrowing memory
to carry with you, every time
the festive season comes around.
Hope your friend's mom
is in, as little pain as possible.
Stay strong, dear poet
'this too, shall pass'
You have such poignant, vivid images, always musical and inventive, traditional but new! Seasons stealing the colors, inkwells gone dry. Very sincere and sophisticated. You naturally use all the poet's tools, like you don't even know it it is so natural. Image, rhythm, anaphora, rhyme, simplicity, theme, vocabulary, you name it. This is a treasure.
Thank you, thank you, thank you. As always, so sweet.
: )
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