across the meadow
. where it gently fell
. to meet the waters edge
were the once lived
. hazy dreams of Janice
. and those nights
of a summer past.
on downs above the avon
. bright balloons
. paint evening's sky
two hearts here strolled
. ever hand in hand
. neath their love's
pale moon and stars
. caught in the echo of yesterday
. joyous laughter haunts night's still air
. a gentle sail strokes the mists below
. as fingers once stroked her hair
the morning dew
. finds now sad regret
. a body cold laid still
a candle's flame
. once burned so bright
. lost to love
and a broken heart
-
Author:
dusk arising (
Offline) - Published: January 24th, 2022 00:11
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 50
- Users favorite of this poem: L. B. Mek, Paul Bell
Offline)
Comments8
Beautiful emotive words d a.
Andy
Thank you Andy, the avon in my piece is the one beneath Brunel's bridge at clifton.
A lovely composition.
Thank you Rozina.
love the tempo
that subtle ebb n flow
where your words
emulate
your sighs and exhales of heavy, impassioned breath
while inking, these seemingly therapeutic words
(or at least in my imagination)
a great read, dear Poet
really enjoyed, taking my time
to savour the unfolding of each line
to find the right reading pace
and squeeze out
the very most out of such a cathartic, reading experience
You raise a very important point there LBM. The pace at which a piece is read makes all the difference. You're right that this piece does benefit from being read slowly with spaces to emphasise the atmosphere. But how can we dictate how a piece should be read without giving it a score as in a piece of music.... not really a starter. I'm sure a true poet will feel an appropriate pace for a given piece and in all probability return to it's beginning once they have established this in mind.
Thank you for your very relevant thoughts here.
Paints a sad picture - so evocative.
Thanks ME. Easy for me because romance always results in sad failure of one sort or another LOL
Halls of otherness,within the depths of beyond and now the hazy dreams of Janice,..I think you should call the fire department,it appears your muse is on fire😉✌️🕊
I dunno about being on fire but she was away, couldn't be found anywhere, for quite a long time. Looks like shes being a typical woman now and just wont shut up!
Lmao😂
This is so raw, and the image stark.
Yet the summer still beholds, Janice, and that leaves a smile for the broken-hearted.
I do love to pen a good sob story now and again. I could picture this one so very easily taking place on clifton heights above the avon in bristol. Who was the mystery lover and why was she broken hearted...... the answer is in the mist..... I'm sure I dont have an answer to those questions.
I'll take Janice off your hands then, she sounds like a goer.
LOL by all means mate.... P.S. she's dead, died in the last stanza.
Probably why she never turned up. lol
Romantically tragic, dusk.
Much entertaining informative value in your responses to commentary also.
this is quite simply brill mate & no kiddin .. N
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