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Jon Mewett
Senior Member
since 2000-03-04
Posts 1304


0 posted 2000-10-19 09:31 AM


Alone she sat on the shingle beach
The evening tide just out of reach
The gentle breeze caressed her flaxen hair
She sat there still her knees tucked tight
Octobers moon a slash of light
The fading seas horizon fixed her stare

She was now a loving wife
A families joy had filled her life
She glanced back to the cottage on the hill
The warm soft glow … the huge log fire
Did the evening and her heart conspire?
With sad memories her crowded head to fill

…………………………………………..

Her father was a fisherman
Wide and strong his shoulder span
His fluffy beard a mass of tangled red
Each morning at the crack of light
The fishing boats a noisy sight
She’d wave goodbye, a kiss and back to bed

The day would seem to slowly pass
Till on the shore she’d spot at last
The laden boats were creeping their way back
Her father hard would ….wave and shout
A delighted scream she’d then let out
He’d always pull a trinket from his sack

The presents he would give to her
Would make her curiosity stir
In wonder she would gaze and point and stab
Shells and multi colourered sand
The seaweed slimy on her hand
And once a tiny darting….Hermit crab

She placed the gifts back in her room
And on long evenings in the winters gloom
The girl would sit alone and laugh and play
As she grew older the day seemed long
Before she heard her father’s song
She felt the danger when he sailed away

The family sat at evening meal
The radio cracked the girl could feel
There was a sad foreboding…….. in the air
A gale had ripped along the coast
Ten hearty men had met their host
You could almost touch the…. sadness sitting there

The girl had cried for many days
Her thoughts were just a foggy haze
Her life ahead but now …..She wasn’t sure
Her father had been so caring …..Strong
She‘d expected him to be there ……. long
In his loving arms she’d always felt secure

…………………………………………….

Time had passed her life was full
There never was a moment dull
Her partner and her children brought her joy
Their lovely home upon the hill
She built with love and tried to fill
The sweet kind hearts of her little girl and boy

But always present…always there
A dark grey cloud… hung in the air
She learnt to live and ignore this loss so deep
But when autumns chill filled up the sky
She’d sit alone and wonder why
And gently rub a shell she used to keep

She knew that life had been so cruel
And sometimes she just felt ….a fool
For always looking and glancing…to the past
And she also knew there would come a day
When her turn would come to go away
For them she hoped the pain would leave… not last

The more you loved and gave in life
The more you cared and lightened strife
The more the pain the longer hurt would stay
What can you do with a loving heart?
But to try and share…… this love impart
And hope a light will guide them on their way
………………………………………………….


The evening now was cold and chill
As she started back to climb the hill
‘Oh father father why did you have to die’
You would be so proud of me
But I know this fate was meant to be’
She hung her head and soft ….a sobbing cry

Jon Mewett






[This message has been edited by Jon Mewett (edited 10-19-2000).]

© Copyright 2000 Jon Mewett - All Rights Reserved
Marge Tindal
Deputy Moderator 5 ToursDeputy Moderator 1 TourDeputy Moderator 1 TourDeputy Moderator 1 Tour
Member Empyrean
since 1999-11-06
Posts 42384
Florida's Foreverly Shores
1 posted 2000-10-19 11:39 AM


Jon~
I've read this twice and it is wonderfully well done.

'What can you do with a loving heart?
But to try and share…… this love impart'


As a young teen whose father went to work one day
and was killed in an explosion ...
I am acutely aware of the feelings akin to those of the girl
of whom you write.

I have his pocket watch, which was found in the rubble.
I often gaze at the melted piece -
with rusted images etched where
the hands of time stopped for his life.

I understand the tears of sorrow.

You know, Jon ...
we just never know when something we write
is going to touch someone ....
this touches me greatly.
~*Marge*~




~*The pen of the poet never runs out of ink, as long as we breathe.*~
noles1@totcon.com

Alle'cram
Senior Member
since 2000-02-28
Posts 1816
Texas
2 posted 2000-10-19 12:34 PM


Jon, Words fail me...This is what you do best. I will read this many times!!   Marcy
BSC
Moderator
Member Elite
since 2000-02-04
Posts 2919
New York, USA
3 posted 2000-10-19 03:30 PM


Oh boy Jon, this is simply incredible.  A truly touching story, penned beautifully.  Bonnie
Honey Bunch
Member
since 2000-08-08
Posts 99
South Africa
4 posted 2000-10-19 05:42 PM


Jon, I thoroughly enjoyed reading this.  Very touching indeed!

Helen

Denise
Moderator
Member Seraphic
since 1999-08-22
Posts 22648

5 posted 2000-10-19 09:11 PM


This one brought tears to my eyes, Jon. I had these very same thoughts reflecting back on the loss of my parents. My mother died tragically when I was eighteen...she never lived to see her children get married, she never saw her son grow up...my father died 29 years later...he saw all of his children get married, came to know eight granchildren and even one great grandchild and yet his death was too soon, way too soon, and could have been prevented. On the way to work yesterday I was thinking perhaps I should start to distance myself emotionally, just a bit, from my kids, so that they aren't so devastated when it is my time to go...and then I thought, nah...that would be a waste of valuable time and love. Life is for loving, after all. Does the sadness ever go away? Probably not. The pain lessens over time, it's not as strong, or else we couldn't live, I suppose. But I can certainly relate to the woman in your poem. I've had all those thoughts and longings and asked those questions. I also have treasured keepsakes that remind me daily of those wonderful days with those wonderful parents with whom I was blessed. As you can see from my ramble, your poem touched me deeply.

Denise

wordancer
Senior Member
since 2000-07-30
Posts 809
VA
6 posted 2000-10-19 09:55 PM


So lovely, the expression of memories that overwelmed us when we are alone with our thoughts...then we must go forward, on with our lives.  As long as we remember our loved ones they are never really gone

-lady

kcsgrandma
Senior Member
since 2000-09-24
Posts 1522
Presque Isle, ME
7 posted 2000-10-20 12:09 PM


Jon, this is a beautiful story, beautifully told, and with much deep thought and feeling.  I'm constantly impressed by your talents.  Keep up the good work.

To love another person is to see the face of God.
- Les Miserables

Marilyn

Jon Mewett
Senior Member
since 2000-03-04
Posts 1304

8 posted 2000-10-20 07:24 AM


thanx everybody for your wonderful responses to this one.........well this is sorta from experience as I too lost my Dad at an early age....so it's sort of biographical....I feel that women are far more poetic than men in their lives and have far more to contend with (not in a patronizing way)........in reflection the image of the woman on the beach just came into my head.

I think my muse must be female.........I hope these feelings I raised were not to difficult to deal with....Thanx again


Jon

Romy
Senior Member
since 2000-05-28
Posts 1170
Plantation, Florida
9 posted 2000-10-20 10:06 PM


That you can write in such a way that you raise these feelings, is the sign of a true poet.
I loved this poem Jon, thanks for sharing it.

Jon Mewett
Senior Member
since 2000-03-04
Posts 1304

10 posted 2000-10-21 04:20 AM


Thanx Debbie........I am pleased you enjoyed this......thanx for your comment.


Jon

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