Friday, June 18, 2010


I shall write a poem tonight,
Continuing my quest
Beyond wasted words,
Tired turns of phrase,
Meaningless metaphors,
To search for the one
Word, turn of phrase, metaphor,
Cryptically concealed, hushed and hidden,
That would reach out to you
From the confines of this page,
And make the intervening years,
Hundreds of miles fall away,
Like the night is dispelled
With the first rays of dawn.

Perhaps you will read the words
And let a pensive smile
Linger on your lips for a moment or two,
Allowing yourself to think
Of the hilly stream like turns
That define the course of love,
Then with a rueful shake of your head
You will immerse yourself once more
In your life away from me,
Like a bird shrugs away
Raindrops that weigh down its wings
Before flying off again.

Or else, perhaps
The faded print of my words,
Smudged by time and distance,
By life itself,
Will allow you to believe
They speak to someone other than you,
You will spare a thought then
For the ephemeral nature of love,
For the impermanence of dreams,
And be content
That life has turned out
The way it has.

And I shall write on,
Continuing my conversations

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