LOVE’S HURT

Oh why does loving hurt so much?
And bite so hard with such smooth teeth?
And clutch so tightly at my heart
As though to stifle every beat?

Just one dark look, one heavy word,
Is like the lash of some foul whip,
And lacerates my tender frame,
And brings a quiver to my lip.

In vain I try to stem the ache –
Othello’s antique pain.
The handkerchief is suspect still
My anguish will remain.

[ First published on rolandsragbag.wordpress.com blog on 5^th October, 2016 ]

Love Sonnet

Over one pendant heart our sighs enmesh,
Gripped by a similar aspirant fuse,
To engage and perpetrate our love,
Resolve our natures, past abuse.

Set apart from stolen trysts;
Enjoyed in our own pristine ways;
Captioned by us alone with worth;
Our love supplies itself with praise.

Enthused with thoughts of sacrifice
Made pleasure, when another’s wish
Suggests that all is not suffice,
My hope ferments, divinely sung.

More fully seasoned with each kiss
A good ripe wine tells on the tongue.

Poem: WHB … 1953 – Copyright

In Love

When did the starlight happier seem than now?
The evening’s quiet, when so full of peace?
How does heaven seem so near to me
Now, when I have wished away my heart?

Why has the night so sober been?
Why has my mind been reason’s moon?
That this poor sun has felt so long a night
The bark of last year’s growth has now unveiled
A green and stripling age of mind;
Eloping with this redder, browner blaze
Of hopeful, living love.

The two paintings above are by Dante Gabriel Rossetti (1828  – 1882).   His model, who he considered his muse, and who later became his wife, was Elizabeth Siddal (1829 – 1862). 

She Lives

With wizened face and withered arms he looks his ninety years;
His hairless head,  those sunken eyes, not given to easy tears.
Though yet a smile lights up his face whenever he looks at her,
For she it is who lights his life, brings calm to soothe his fears.

But she is now a photograph, an image in her youth,
Mounted in silver, encased in glass, resplendent in its frame.
A memory of memories, written on his heart,
Reminder of a life well spent, of the lovers they became.

Long years, a life, have passed him by, the past now left behind.
What does the future hold for him that hasn’t once been tried?
Save memories, now fading, but alive within his heart,
Bringing rich fodder to his dreams, a full life justified.

 

A WINTER’S TALE

Let me steal the midnight’s silence,
The stillness of the dawn,
The dampness of the morning grass,
As one more day is born.

Let me tread the crisp new snow
And breathe the icy blast;
Match my step to winter’s wind,
Relive those pleasures past.

For I must reach another goal
Fate’s purpose to pursue.
Life has been short and gone too soon
My devils to subdue.

And when my grave has opened up
My body to receive
Already mildew on my heart
And few there’ll be to grieve.

 

 

New Year – A Two Word Tale – #8

Photo by DreamSky on Pexels.com

 

New year
Cold night
Snow falls
All white

Hot fire
Scots pine
Church choir
Mulled wine

Bright hearth
Warm heart
First foot
New start

 

My ‘Two Word’ Verses

Number eight  in my series of short verses 

 

 

 

Amen Corner

A house in which to end my days.
Goodbye it says to all,
For here at last I am content
Behind my garden wall.

The name I gave it says it all,
How still, at peace, and blessed,
How glad am I to know such joy,
To be by love possessed.

That final farewell anthem,
When it is heard at last,
Will sound around these humble walls
Where present meets the past.

For I have lived a life I loved,
Loved the path I’ve trod.
Amen was written on my heart
In this my House of God.

A Devon Cottage, England

 

Reverie #3 – The Hand of Fear

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

Awake with a sweat 
In a cloud of dread
A nightmare place I’d left. 
Unsure of where
Of how, of when. 
What was it caused my fears, 
What un-shapen image then
Had brought about these tears? 

I never before saw 
Nor ever felt, 
A fear so deep. 
Dear God, 
The very rustle in the trees
Caused my skin to creep.

And now my frozen heart is lying still.

 

Time Has Been Called

Photo by Kristina Paukshtite on Pexels.com

Oh, yes I’ve seen
Those fields of green, 
And I have kissed down Lovers’ Lane. 
And to my cost
I’ve loved and lost;
On oceans tossed I’ve  bled in pain. 

My heart’s been wrenched, 
My spirit quenched, 
As I have striven a soul to win. 
But to what end
Did I offend, 
What cause had I to sin? 

And now at last
All chance has passed;
No future can I see. 
For time is up, 
Life’s bitter cup
Has passed from you to me.

 

Too Short a Life

Photo by Nubia Navarro (nubikini) on Pexels.com

Come to me in dreams
and still my hurting heart;
From all you meant to me
I cannot softly part.

As memory dulls and life
proceeds with steady tread,
it won’t be long before
I follow where you’ve led.

Life is too short for living,
Eternity too long.
Perhaps to swap them over
would right a painful wrong.