Time’s Hold

Painting by George Frederic Watts . . . 1886

 TIME’S  HOLD

You are what might have been 
on that alternative path,
my abandoned way re-discovered.

But what is now is salient; 
you make me an offer,  
propose to me a future 
that will not arise  
unless hope turns to reality
before Time tires.

When life was fast dissolving,
when my world
 was being wrenched apart,
then, supporting your own cross, 
you came from nowhere
to reach out, to connect,
to take my hope
and cherish it.

What I am left with
is no longer despair, 
but the veiled thrill
of tomorrow’s augury.

You could resolve my need,
bring me that accord, 
of touch, of feel, of senses, 
of minds in tune. 

What you do – for me, now,
is to engender lust, 
that lust of my youth,
for life, for certitude,
which can repel my languor, 
now sequestered by age,
and bring a new intensity,
revivify that spark
which once embellished all.

No longer my past innocence, 
but a considered offering,
a last grasp at time’s hold on me.

Weaving Words

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Weaving Words

I wander my world 
Weaving words into verse
Plaiting my thoughts 
Into silken skeins of sense
Rendering images
from my mind’s eye
To this digital paper.

Perverse perception
Lending life to poetry
Lust to hope 
And love to mon amour
The written word.

Only in time
with wish fulfilment
Perchance my dreams
Will meet my expectations 
And produce that meisterwerk
Whose impetus
Drives me on.

 

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NOTE:   Without apologies – a poem which I have blogged previously.

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The Black Bra

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Black on Red
It stood
Proud statement
Discarded in frenzy
All passion spent
Improperly passive now
Objet trouvé
Found flotsam
Overstating its status
Bright
Bold
Yet benign

No threat 
No danger
The sad music of lust
Transmuted
Statuesque

Fashioned by whim
Now become
A seafront memento
In memoriam
Of some casual
Teasing escapade
A littoral reminder

Perhaps
Of a purple period
Of passion
Part Bikini
Or
Plain Brassiere

 

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Photos by kind permission of Canadian artist, Alma Kerr

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Love and Wisdom

Robert Herrick

Bust portrait of Robert Herrick, 17th century English poet,  from a rare print by W Marshal

 

One of the great love poems in the English language is Robert Herrick’s (1591 – 1674) poem ‘To Sylvia , to Wed’.   The poem was published in 1674 in a collection of Herrick’s poems called ‘Hesperides’.  You will find a transcription of it at:  poets.org   The last line of this extremely short poem is . . .

“No Man can at one time be wise and love.” 

The truth of these words by Herrick have often struck me, and I have been led to compose the following poem to amplify my thoughts on the beauty of the words and the wisdom which they hold . . .

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Love and Wisdom

Great truth lies here
For love consumes the soul
Drives out the rational
In favour of those headstrong thoughts
Those unconsidered deeds
Which couple love with lust
And joy with pain
Breaching reason
As a burst dam
Floods life’s valleys
As the wildfire strips life’s undergrowth
Devouring what it most values
In the thoughtless rush and swell
Of its inflamed ardour

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