Then Will I Sing

Sir Edward Coley Burne-Jones (1833-1898) … St.Cecilia – Stained Glass – 2nd Presbyterian Church, Chicago

When time at last has caught its fearful breath
And I have cause to think again of you,
I will return to our far distant past
And then relive those old desires anew.

For when in trepidation I now pray
For health and strength in my remaining years,
Memories flood back of youthful days
When you and I brushed eyes and shed some tears.

Now, when hearts may meet and lips may touch,
And old less supple bodies bond in bliss,
Now, when you give to me your self in love,
Then will I sing and long remember this.

That youth and age together make a life,
Related sides of but a single page.
This truth becomes at last to us apparent,
Allows our hearts in love to re-engage.

As The Year Ends

WHB : Pen & Ink – 2018

AS THE YEAR ENDS

Dark the swollen river runs
Under the bridge’s shades of grey.
Slate sky condemns the passive scene
Draining colour from the day.

Tree silhouettes outline my view
Their winter ribs bared to the frost
December bids the old year gone
With no regrets for what is lost. 

The year expires; bid it goodbye, 
It brought distress, re-kindled fears,
It promised much it failed to give,
Left little hope and many tears.

So now, in hope of better times,
Tomorrow holds the future’s key.
New perspectives flood my view
Blue skies as far as I can see.

A Devilish Dream

Photo by Cxpturing Souls on Pexels.com

Yes, I danced with the devil in my dream,
And I dallied with my demons as I slept;
Or was it you, my tender love,
Was it thoughts of you and me,
That salted all my tears as I wept?

For the bitterness, the gall which I have felt,
Brought me memories of life before I cried,
Turned my sourness to sorrow,
Lulled my aches until tomorrow, 
Lent me strength to face the future mollified.

Now, since I awoke, I’ve known an emptiness,
A sense of having missed that magic time,
When love was oh so sweet,
Our happiness was complete,
And that good night was always quite sublime.

 

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.

 

Thursday – ‘Loved And Lost’

Photo by Rakicevic Nenad on Pexels.com

An aphorism for each day, keeps the doctor away. Each day this week I am offering a common aphorism, just slightly embellished – for good or ill.

 

 

‘Tis better to have loved and lost

Than never to have loved at all;

Believe that if you will, my dears,

For me, I try to tell myself,

Better that I count the cost

Of all those ties which brought me tears.

 

 

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.

 

Sad Sky

Photo by Simon Matzinger on Pexels.com

 

The Sky is Sad today

Its Clouds Weep bitter joyless Tears

While Winter Winds arouse the foam-topped Waves

Would that they Wash away my burgeoning Fears.

 

As The Year Ends

WHB … Pen & Ink – 1988

Dark the swollen river runs
Under the bridge’s shades of grey.
Slate sky condemns the passive scene
Draining colour from the day.

Tree silhouettes outline my view
Their winter ribs bared to the frost
December bids the old year gone
With no regrets for what is lost. 

The year expires; bid it goodbye, 
It brought distress, re-kindled fears,
It promised much it failed to give,
Left little hope and many tears.

So now, in hope of better times,
Tomorrow holds the future’s key.
New perspectives flood my view
Blue skies as far as I can see.

 

‘Tales Once Told’ – A SONNET

‘Contemplation: Rydal Water’ …  Pen&Ink – WHB

Tales Once Told

 

The rain-filled sky is bleak and sad today,
Its loaded clouds weep bitter joyless tears,
While winter winds arouse the foam-topped waves,
Seeking to prove the truth of all my fears.

Tears, as raindrops, fall when I feel sad.
I shed them as I think what might have been.
For fears that life, with time, is running out
Reflect on what my life has come to mean.

The joys of youth now turned to old age cares,
And I must be content that life was long.
So many of the friends who I once knew
Have now departed, lived, and sung their song.

But, I will join them in the realms of gold,
And we can reminisce on tales once told.

 

. . . and Love Will Not Cease

 

‘The Good Shepherd’ – Burne-Jones – Stained G;ass – Frome 

When life ends in tears
Memory holds Heaven’s key
And Love will not cease.

 

 

I plan to re-commence my regular weekday posts from Wednesday 2nd May.