For William, Has been too long.

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Open Poetry #49

For William, Has been too long.

Redstart
Senior Member

since 2014-05-16

Posts 535

0 posted 2016-08-06 03:31 PM

In the valley of the forging,
where march those men of tin,
a sculptor moulds his men of clay,
and clay their hearts within.
On beds of angels' wings they sleep
as children work the thread,
and artists paint in oils of hope
that they might raise the dead.

Yet in the wanting of the wind,
that stubborn' blows this vale,
a hope so true becomes the voice
to hand lost boats their sail.
With needles downed, to wings full-flight,
the children take their bows.
As angels of tomorrow's word
rise up to stroke their brows.

So rest, my brother, in your peace;
such cynic in your pride.
And know that for your loneliness,
in gentleness, I cried.

love you, Bill x

JerryPat2
Member Laureate

since 2011-02-06

Posts 16975
South Louisiana

1 posted 2016-08-06 03:39 PM

This has heartbreak in every darn line without being melodramatic. The feeling throuhout is one of love and deep sorrow.

~ If they give you ruled paper, write sideways. ~

Lori Grosser Rhoden
Member Patricius

since 2009-10-10

Posts 10202
Fair to middlin' of nowhere

2 posted 2016-08-06 03:51 PM

couldn't have said it better myself Jerry. ~L

RedStoneEB
Senior Member

since 2003-06-08

Posts 772
uk

3 posted 2016-08-08 04:15 PM

bravo a nice piece of written word

RS

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