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| Open Poetry #50 |
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Gunslinger Senior Member
since 1999-10-09
Posts 901TX, USA 
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As the evening shadows softly, draw a veil across the land- And the wildlife starts to stirring, on the burning desert sand. And the blood red orb is sinking, ever lower in the west- I sit musing in my saddle, there upon a rocky crest. I can see the eagle soaring, gliding... far up in the sky- On the flats I see a doe and fawn as they go passing by- I hear the dusty buzzing of a rattler in the brush- In my lonely sanctuary, dear, I pause, and think of Us. I think of days of youth long past, forgotten words and vows- Things we said; "Forever." but they're all forgotten now- Of the beauty of your visage, as we walked beneath the moon- Never dreaming that our love would end, especially not so soon. Of the passion of our feelings, like a fire within our veins- Which has long since turned to ashes, only memory remains. Of the burning velvet kisses, and the wonder in your eyes- We explored our new found feelings, every moment brought surprise. How we vowed undying fealty; and swore: "till death do part"- As we built our faulty castles; on illusions from the start. As my heart grew ever softer, from day to passing day- Then my world came down around me, on the day you went away. In a note you penned so quickly, "Sorry, dear, but I must haste- I enjoyed all our moments, but my life I must not waste, Hope this missal finds you well, dear; but for now I say farewell." And a morning which was heaven, brought an eve of living hell. And for weeks I took no comfort, except in numbing drink- For my drinking quenched the sorrows, from which my heart did shrink. Till at last I got a handle, and a grip upon my mind. And I made a vow:... emotions and all such I must needs bind. And my aching heart was hidden; 'neath a visage...stern and cold- And a spirit once so youthful; grew harsh, and cruel, and old. And my songs and ready laughter, were not heard anymore- For I locked my love and passions safe behind a leaden door. So the beauty I am seeing, can no longer stir my heart- But a poignant memory fleeting, nearly makes the tears to start- And the sorrow I thought banished, all comes back in such a rush- As I sit here in my saddle, my thoughts are still on Us. |
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Michael
Moderator
Member Rara Avis
since 1999-08-13
Posts 7666California |
Of all the poems you have written that may have stirred something in me, John...this out does them all. And if you're not moved by beauty, know that the beauty of this one will move anyone who reads it. Michael |
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