What We Were.
A bunch of dried heather
now faded,
long dead
yet still sits in a jar on the table
and my bed faces its spell.
Surely now I should obey
time's message,
love changed
but no witchcraft discards
or throws away,
used completeness
so what we were will remain.
-
Author:
Fay Slimm. (
Offline) - Published: August 11th, 2022 08:32
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 41
- Users favorite of this poem: Saxon Crow
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Comments5
Just as it should remain. The touching sensitivity of this piece reaches out and though it can never hold for the reader that which it holds for the two, it holds the depth of the meaning of what love brings to our humble table. Life's treasure.
A must for my favs.
Your thoughtful opinion is always so welcome dear Dusk and warm thanks too for adding the piece to your list of favourites
this is not only quite brill .. but it is spooky too dont'cha think ......... x
Yup - - - spooky methinks too - - but hey - nowt to say 'bout witchery-spells bein; bad for ya cos sometimes maybe they aint - -- - eh ? ................x
Dried and faded, it still holds the essence of what was fresh and beautiful, forever young, like the love that never dies. Such a beautiful, touching poem, loved it.
So pleased you enjoyed the read Bella . and what a thoughtfully poetic comment on What We Were - - thank you loads my friend.
Very true Fay, we may change but what we were will always be in our minds.
Andy
I love this Fay. A beautifully written poem that hits the spot nicely.
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