Monday, October 10, 2011

Counterpoints of Loss




I gazed longingly at so many prompts last week, knowing I was unable to touch them for a little while...there are a few too sweet not to give them a try.


Your finger-tips, once warm and tender
Rake across a listless turf
Then, an argent swell of splendor
Now a cold and darkened surf

Thought can be a calloused reaper
Stripping pleasure from the vine
Trampling all but truth beneath her
Folly yields a bitter wine

Where soft laughter filled night’s hollow
Now a low and hardened moan
Clenches twilight’s deepening pallor
With the timbre of a stone

Your lips, once sweet as dew-kissed roses
With sad triumph I decline
The door ajar now firmly closes
For you are no longer mine

Janet Martin

2 comments:

  1. Wonderful accomplishment here. Your endings so often pack a major punch. This is no exception.

    ReplyDelete

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