Park benches.

Park benches.

A Poem by Beccy


A thousand miles away;
perhaps in contemplation
of the son 
you left behind,
you are playing your guitar.

Even above the gusted November
wind that chills to the bone,
I can hear the melody; 
as can the red/gold tinted leaves 
that dance in skittish
attendance at my feet, 
lost as I am to your beautiful music.

Time slips, clouds close in
and I gather my coat, watching 
the green painted swing as it 
sways creakily back and forth;
and I wonder if it hears the music,
or is simply keeping in practice
for the coming spring and the
fondly remembered laughter 
of a child at play.

Soon then, the wind stills
and the slenderness of my arms
are like the rusted chains on the swing,
strong enough only for measured burden;
and the distance between us,
though counted in miles,
might as well be the far side of the moon,
although love, like laughter, only ever fades.   


© 2015 Beccy



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Featured Review

the last stanza here is as important as any love poem can conger or imagine. And there is that
irresistible promise that surrenders to separation and thusly submits meekly and adjectively
to disappointment. When you write a poem Beccy, all the assertions implied by the speaker
are true even when poetry itself (the art of it) asserts that blessed modicum of trivial
untruth. But we never doubt you and in the end, cry when you cry.

You write poetry like an unearthed, liberated lady of a different century, only this time
breached of etiquette and propriety and allowed bravely to tell the story of heartache
without being trivialized. This is as good as modern love poetry gets..

thanks for sharing it with us.....dana

Posted 3 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.




Reviews

goodness, this is so well written; it is sad and beautiful and lonely , and i have really enjoyed finding such a lovely write :)

Posted 1 Month Ago


and he is certainly playing chords of regret at what and of what he left behind.

and his park bench feels very lonely with no one else sitting with him...

and yes, old lovers never disappear totally from our hearts and minds...they fade, but still remain there.

Posted 1 Month Ago


Strong images crafted here. I like your depiction of capturing time. Time flows "within and without". I especially like the last two stanzas. Well done.

Posted 1 Month Ago


Such a quietness here.. hope things are well for you..

02/06 -PASSING BY and reading your words once more.. the colours varied, the memories strong, emotions part hidden or edged with silver tears.

Time slips, clouds close in ~ and I gather my coat, watching ~ the green painted swing as it ~ sways creakily back and forth; ~ and I wonder if .. ' still those particular words, thatsmall area.. touches me most, is genetly whimseical, deeply emotional .. Beautiful..

Posted 1 Year Ago


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Zoe
Amazing this is! I found the aha moment in this one. The part about the swing trulys portrays your wonderful imagination and creativity. This was easy to understand as well, that made it all the more beautiful. I enjoyed reading this!

Posted 1 Year Ago


Wow! Beautifully written, Beccy. Some wonderful imagery written in a way that brings the angst and pain all too clearly to the fore. Very sad. A broken relationship. Possibly a lost son - could be inferred. Either way, as others have said, the final line ... Wow! Very good job! BRs Nigel

Posted 1 Year Ago


Lovely! I enjoyed reading this very much. Your imagery is beautiful and I felt I could hear the creaky green swing. (Time slips, clouds close in
and I gather my coat, watching the green painted swing as it sways creakily back and forth;) ~Sharon

Posted 1 Year Ago


Because it is undeniably true, the last line stings--and lingers.
A lovely, insightful and somewhat tragic piece of work.
High-level fare.

Posted 1 Year Ago


fades...but never dies. I feel this one.
The idea of the swings keeping in practice and remembering blew me away.
Gorgeously bitter-sweet Beccy.

Posted 1 Year Ago


How one can watch time go by, until shaken to reality. Lovely flow and sweet Imagery Beccy.

Posted 1 Year Ago



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Added on April 24, 2015
Last Updated on April 30, 2015

Author

Beccy
Beccy

Northampton, Northamptonshire, United Kingdom



About
I'm forty one, single and have a lovely eleven year old son called Charlie. I've been writing poetry and short stories since I can remember. I had never really been inclined to share my writing until .. more..

Writing
New for old New for old

A Poem by Beccy



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