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Posts Tagged ‘love elegy’

Door Steps ©SRose t. (Seasideauthor)


Continuance in fantasy?

One step, she lifts a foot;

Balance she seeks, gravity

learns, to live. Army afoot

????????????? 

with aid in sterile white;

to the coverings’ agony.

Rescue the betrayal blight

form sinks into atrophy.

 

Eruption sink coat daily                                                                                        

her frame in the mirror.

Thoughts pass, hazily

a memory disappears

 

of the once ‘stunning’ being.

Only half birthday ago

“She Was” only needing;

his love, her covering aglow.

 

Jovial interests only art,

poetry and careless dance.  

Affection was his only part,

her fault a circumstance.

 082314_1500_DoorSteps2.jpg

The door she could not find.

In despair entangled in apogee

his help arrogantly blind.

Lacking the loving capacity

 

Or patience guide into reality.

Abandons her to life lonely

despair. He; her center of gravity.

Knowing he was her one and only.

 

A step at a time, step one, tread,

dressed in white & scrubs, allies                                                                          

rise, piloting gravity, new read.

Reach for her out of the skies.

 

Manages the lines, one at a time;

Guiding the pencil, led her step

by step. Long year quite a climb.

Turning a corner, her gullible rep

 

exasperates them still. Good deed

and gently try to erase her dearheart

from her core. Aim her to concede

he is material, only loves in part.

 

Someday she will find the exits.

Holding the keys, her heart wills

learn to eat to live. Into the edit

and back to reality. Loving quill

 

surfacing unable to keep it light.

Striving to start erasing a lout,

To stop whining in this plight?

Soon we’ll see a life all about!

 

All photos by Joel Robison Photography  @joelrobison  .com


		
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Fall Alone


Fall Moon 2013 ©Sharon Rose

This ‘Golden’, moon of falling

So beHolden, ageing &blurry

she is Bolden, most of calling

in the fall, flowers bury.

 

In waiting, prayer a calling

Spinning, waiting no hurry

she is Golden, sits stalling

in the fall, leaves scurry

 

ego ‘Holden’, nearly appalling

mind racing, winding flurry

she is Golden, not enthralling

in the fall, heart is in ‘fiery

 

This ‘Golden’, Moon of falling

lips kissing, a tasting’ curry

she is ‘Golden’, still NO lolling

in this fall, she is spurry

 

no ‘Mate to embolden, Moon is falling

dearheart missing, others too surly

she is ‘Golden’, at coast my da’lling

in this fall, too heartfelt too scarry

 

In pacing, this life too petrifying

dearheart missing, forever been early

she is ‘Golden’, toasting& scarring

fall, praying, your search, will miscarry

The Path (Patterns)


The path I feel the need to follow,
Living day to day and totally estranged;
Wake; awake each day, emptier and hollow.

©Sharon Rose

©Sharon Rose

Thoughts confuse, in sadness not wallow,
Know: frail minds view, you as deranged;
The path I feel the need to follow.

Frequently: a sight to view: not in sorrow.
Quiet huddle, others’ gossip stirs, my stomach panged;
Wake; awake each day; emptier and hollow.

Although you in heart, mind; in want they borrow,
Honestly, their answers voluntarily arranged;
The path I feel the need to follow.

Left and right turns, finding the roads narrow,
Bless now, preventing fierce tears; mind‘s eye rearranged;
Wake, awake each day; emptier and hollow.

To my injury, my God, and about Your sparrow,
Your compassion: fears within them remain unchanged;
The path I feel the need to follow.
Wake, awake each day; emptier and hollow.

 

As a footnote: We were asked to use a line from a poem that has inspired us. And to write a response or reply a repose so to speak, so here is mine.  So, ‘the path’  I need to follow is two words from a Robert Frost poem, I think as a prompt somewhere on the internet where we were asked to do a patterned write. Which, I did, we were asked to use an established poet as inspiration. This is the 1st or second attempt on my part. So if it sounds familiar it may be.

Elsewhere there is one line from another poet established also, I have not remembered which one. I will footnote that one also. When I find it. So there you have it. A lot of the time I try not to use prompts too much because of this hunt.

Love Was, Oh Too Soon To Be!


May 17th to July 30 2011

From the moment I glance
at your picture, it was, Silver
waves mousse hair, smooth
exact very handsome. Not 
my six foot list and my
profile out the window, just
because; Oh, Jesus I thought
we had a talk he has no job,
not even an income!
Your voice I heard through
the phone, my heart melts.
As we set our first meeting,
our hearts still rapidly beating,
Riding, grilling, romantic,
music, and emotions svelte.
Exciting &comforting, laughs
and images, almost adoring.
Annuls by voluntary
comatose, love was
Oh, too soon to be.
Similar losses although
not, understanding the pain
came. Tearful tragedy
of his being he shares,
her cowards escape.
Unknowing  pain she
leaves a black gift,
to him secrets forever
left the same, Our
conversations are banter,
our words fumble under
her black drape! Old
nick trick left wounds,
and an old ghost; in his
heart everlasting scrape!
 
2013 
Two years later, people
change, sad sad sad,
forward not backward.
Too forward for me now,
no rebounds for you,
seemed still in comatose.
Nothing can be done,
he is ever left the same.
Even banter is now
out of line, still a lady
but the gent has left
the land. So you have
no old friends: just too
fast for me. Getting old
I suppose. Sorry I un-
friended you, it is just
too much for me to even
leave the house! I don’t
Good luck, sorry for your
loss and I know you will
always miss her. You
were finally ready, but
I was not. You seemed
to change. Not a Gent.
 
 2014
More than a year passes.
You pop up on the net!
Still You say the Gent;
has returned! Excited,
you offer to meet. A
different man you say.
Well it is true. As I
had to decompress too.
Both of us are new.
Renewed, see you
very soon…OKAY!
Yes, he is new. No
longer comatose. And
he is loving his life.
Even getting blessed
at his work. It is all
good. Friends with
possibilities. We will
see. (No, he is free!
for me. Cannot wear
anything on his right
hand. Falls off. No muscle,
in a right finger.)
Yes this is you.
Can you be true.
player, player?
Love the music?
You do too!
Wow, Wow, Wow.
Free to be us…
 
 
 
 

This was inspired from a friend whose fiancee had committed suicide. I guess I could see his case better than hers at the time.

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