Author Information
I remember…
Folder:
Astronomical Poetry
I remember...
scribbling at dusk
where all borders dwindle to the vague and distorted
odd how one remembers things
I remember…
to never mourn the moon
courier of the night
the measure
of light laced
by the silver lust sunk
in its Irish mist
I remember…
discrete echoes
in the haze
of nocturnal
a shadow
descending
seemingly it crawls
moving in the hidden
I remember…
whispered possession pale
in this artful light
subtle shifts
that withdraw
stressed within many sorrows
I remember…
her
unconditionally
frail
there where souls touch
they rise
above the arc
I remember…
I remember…
wet lips lit by a full moon
lips that touched
delicately
with a taste scented
and graced gently
by enchantment
I remember…
This poem is outstanding. I
This poem is outstanding. I realy liked it especially the second stanza. Your descriptive imagery in this is very effective. Thanks
this marvelous poem of yours wholly inspired me to reply to it
poetically.
Here is my reply back to your poem as if I were the counterpart woman to it.
I posted it on my page and gave you full credit and noted your poem's page so others can come and read the catyalyst for my work. I hope you enjoy it and don't mind the reply.
Sincerely, Melissa Lundeen.
HOW I FORGOT
oh grievous one
who all too clearly recalls
'How I Forgot'
until ye mesmerized me with your own
peppered memories
of a hundred and fifty moments or more
now dwarfed by another far brighter sun
how I forgot
until your incantations collapsed
at the doorstep of mine heart
scattering their love littered leaflets
upon my heart's ailing porch
speak not of forlorn tales no more
for that is all that they may be
echoes rounding a heart that
endlessly now no longer sees
how I forgot
until the pristine sisters above twinkled
in banished regret
before mine eyes
leaving their milky white mist
behind
for galaxies far more inviting
that ye meant not the twilight
spoken from thine own yet shadowed heart
each belief now is a mere illusion
dressing themselves up in the clothing
of finer recollections
of scenes long ago played out
never to be performed again
for such minstrel of love's tangled tryst
can not withstand a repeat performance
so standing up thus
I leave this nocturnal stage
catching my tears as they fall
while withholding my own former delights
in shame.............
(Sept. 29, 2014 1240pm)
I never mind
a reply especially one so beautiful as you and your wonderous words
Peace
Dylan
"One of the best results of life, is the torment of love"
Dylan Eliot