When november rains return,
we rehear the lyrics of this melody
and others well-kept secrets...
A monochrome reverie ,featuring
actors -as memory recalls,
seems to possess ageless eternity ...
Theatrical farce trapped inside
a reassuring screen of smoke .
The april rains inventing regrets
that were yet to come ...
a few romantic escapades
under the pre-war riviera sky ...
Beneath the glow of a blazing evening ,
when the final thread of day ,
unravels into dusk .
The empty glass bears the red mark
of a tender hurt .
A last kiss that departs for a lifespan .
Airplane taking off toward a non stop destiny...
To each ,their own path leading
to the same tomorrow ...
absence has the fragrance of that withered flower
that we journey with heavy hearts ...
Happiness isn't eternal but has
a flavor that lasts forever .
Once the storm season has breathed its ultimate sigh
and after so many reaping moons ,
the streets of the soul -silent sentinels,watching
the solemn procession of fallen lives,
I'd wait under the dead instants clock,
for the november rains to bring you back...
-
Author:
lorenz (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: October 11th, 2026 11:01
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 17
- Users favorite of this poem: sorenbarrett, Ellen Marsell, Cheeky Missy, Tristan Robert Lange
Offline)
Comments3
Absence makes the heart grow fonder they say. That is a scary thing if t'wer so all romantics would be hermits. Good write my friend
Your absence is my deep inspiration !
Yes I hate being under a watchful eye
Not everything that passes disappears; not everything that remains is eternal.
The clock marks the instants of the metamorphosis .
Wow, Lorenz! I was picturing an old romantic film while reading this, and by the time I finished, I was thinking about people I've lost touch with over the years. There are some I'd dearly love to see again. Really enjoyed spending a little time with this one, my friend. 🌹🖤🙏🕯️🐦⬛
A time to be reaping, a time to be sowing
The green leaves of summer are calling me back...
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