Events given.
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Written by
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I shudder, I float and kick myself,
As in darkness of the womb.
I gasp and weep for all the loss
That blew me ever down.
The morning air frosty and cold,
Bid me play with stones I found.
But hesitating, I turned and saw
A casket lowered in the ground.
The leaves fell off the thousand year oak,
Sweet landmark of youth and shade.
They whirled through history's fickle winds,
Where destitute souls had lain.
Gather wild flowers in tares and wheat,
Sing softly in minor keys.
Though stigma a 'scarlet letter' be,
Sweet silence a blessed repose.
The waves roll down the Wintry beach,
I exhaust my grief in your noise!
The seagulls, like vultures, scream overhead,
Blood flows down my hand from a rose.
In torment's shadow we hastily trade,
Isolated islands of shame.
We fly, we fall, coast then crawl,
Brokenness our picture frame.
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Thank you so much Christa for your validating comments - I will change the "were" to "where." I really appreciate the time everyone has taken to view my poem.
Elizabeth--just found and read. Really beautiful and powerful lyric imagery. I, too, resonated with the "I exhaust my grief in your noise." It almost feels like the most vivid moment of all, the moment with the most of the narrator invested in it. And the sudden turn, from being bid to play to the coffin is wonderful. I think that the last line of the third stanza, though, should be "where" not were?
Thank you Shari Lynne!
Hi Maureen and Jenne - Thank you so much for your comments. Without wishing to sound maudlin, I cried when reading them. My risk was richly rewarded, which leaves me free to explore and push my personal poetic boundaries further afield. Jenne I signed up for La Parola Vivace. The poem on the theme of "reconciliation" for the Tuesday challenge touched me in particular because human rights issues are very close to my heart. Having had voice lessons for seven years in England I am also aware of the great affinity many had with Dame Joan Sutherland. Thank you for making me so welcome.
Lovely, interesting poem. I like the ethereal feel, even in the heavier imagery of "all the loss that blew me ever down" and "stigma and 'scarlet letter'". It does flow nicely.
Beautifully written. I, too, am struck by "I exhaust my grief in your noise!", and also by "Isolated islands of shame" and "Blood flows down my hand from a rose". Strong imagery, a big theme successfully contained throughout the poem. It flows so well.