His Last Poem~

A Dedication for a troubled friend~

 

 

He has grown tired

of tracing her silhouette
through sheer ivory curtains
as she bows her head
in pastel whispers

of the shadow cast
when the moon hides
behind clouds of silver lining

He no longer wonders

when seas shall calm
as sails weather the storm

of rose colored thoughts
or dreams of any color
dancing in his head

He lives in gray
looking over his shoulder
draped in illusion
and when you look in his eyes,
there is only emptiness.

When the song is over
and the needle skips,
not even words
can make his heart flutter anymore;
He, who spoke of love
in utter fascination
who tasted kisses wild
in his multi-colored imagination.

He, who knew the soul
of a woman
undressing her ivory skin
in restless anticipation,

those ears inhaling sounds
of joyful jazz  
now, sleep in silence

Spinning his wheels
the carousel ride is over

as he writes his last poem.

 

 

 

~

Author's Note

image credit: http://bookeywookey.blogspot.com/2007/09/inflorescence-flowering-of-poetry-every.html
workplace of poet dylan thomas

Reviews

[kollaboratyve]

I come to the conclusion that this poem is not a poem in the sense of poetry. This should be the intro to the book you will be writing. It is to royal to be relegate to that of a poem, Your potential is illustrious and profound. Your dept of vision and insight is marvelous. I think you missed your calling. You should have been a professional poet.This is a good work. It is solid to the core!

[Wondering Mind]

A sad but beautiful write. I commend you on the grace of flow in spite of the sadness

[Nom de Plume]

wonderful write as always Lynda, this wasnt about me was it lol... even when you write a sad melancholic poem you do so beautifully, your imagery is always tender and delicate.

[Michael X]

Lynda, this poem has incredible flow and rhythm, everything about it carried
as a wisp of heart touching effect, combined with sentimental devotion,
very beautiful, the line breaks really stand out, a vivid pleasure to read

[R J Askew]

Again the title arouses the curiosity here. It is a wistful and sad thought. I really like the verse beginning: 'When the song is over and the needle skips' which I could hear. It is painfully sad, actually. But all things end. But to see a friend in some way dimminished is a hard thing to experience. Your poem is very well observed and full of emotion.