Found Out

It comes to us all, we ask ourselves

Is love the source of bliss?

If true, then why did I love her so

And yet feel so amiss?

Could it be conversation that

Would bind us, heart to heart,

Or physical stimulations that

Would sour, before we part.

 

‘It’s always been such a mystery,’

I said to Anne Marie,

‘What was the force that drew us in,

Why did you cleave to me?’

She shrugged, and thought for a moment,

‘Why must you philosophise?

I thought there was something welcoming

About your soft, grey eyes.’

 

It wasn’t enough, I knew it then

There had to be more than this,

How could you build a relationship

On a stolen midnight kiss?

I needed to know the locks and chains

That would bind us, as they should,

On through a distant future, when

In thrall to a different mood.

 

I told her that I was leaving her

On a cold dark winter’s morn,

‘I knew that you would,’ said Anne Marie

As the sun came up at dawn,

‘You’re not content with the time we’ve spent

So your love was not for me.’

I couldn’t tell how my heart was full

With my love for Anne Marie.

 

But I thought it had to be tested,

Love’s not sure ‘til it’s tasted pain,

By leaving, there could be one result

And that one result was gain,

It would either set us apart for life

As our ardour died in the flame,

Or qualities more substantial would

Draw us together again.

 

I knew it was quite a gamble, that

It could well change my life,

Tampering with a primal force

Could only bring me strife,

But love would have to be strong as steel,

Unwavering in its course,

To prove that everything else was real

Not waning from the source.

 

I disappeared for a month or more

But where, I didn’t say,

None of our mutual friends had seen

Me out, by light of day,

I thought to set up a mystery

To prove an ancient saw,

That absence makes the heart fonder

As it did, in times of war.

 

Whatever I sought to prove, I did,

The proof was in the gruel,

With plenty of time to ponder, though

The lesson learned was cruel.

I crept up there on a starless night

And I heard her whispered lies,

‘I thought there was something welcoming

About your soft, blue eyes.’

 

David Lewis Paget

Reviews

[TL Boehm]

Multiple lessons in this piece. That often love is a lie - that personas and mysteries don't work - and what of pain and testing....is it worth it in the end?
Absence makes the heart forget. The heart is a toddler most days - out of site out of mind and on to the next toy.

[redflutterby]

When we seek to test the strength of love we are often disappointed. I've always believed if you have to ask you already know the answer. Your lines flow so perfectly and there's a touch of sad humor at the end. Wonderful poem David!

[minisla]

Love is a complete myth, deceiving as it goes. When one turns its back it is lost forever.

[Ravyne Hawke]

Another fantastic tale, David.. I am glad he found out her lies, now his heart can heal.. love is such a fickle mistress and the heart a tender beast. Love this!

[roy k austin]

Hi David-I have read several of your poems and they all have that Iambic metric flow.Different messages to the same tune or rhythm? can you not vary them other wise they begin to detract from the voice of the poem don't you think what what? Try some Eliot metres or even R Frosts? perhaps? ie..
" I grow old...I grow old... I shall wear the bottoms of my trousers rolled" or
"two paths lead into the wood, I chose the path less travelled by"-more pleasing to the ear eh? None - the -less you have some interesting tales to tell here. best...Roy...

[BlackRose]

LOVED it, LOVED it. Ah, the lessons when it comes to love. We learn alot one way or another when it comes to love.

[Lena M. P.]

Out of sight; out of mind as they say. Hold on with both your heart and yoar hands if you want to keep love close. Very good write.

[Keith]

Excellent read, a life lesson in there.

[Baby Ricochet]

Love is a lot of things. Great poem as always mr Paget.

[Marie]

I thought women were the ones who over-analyzed relationships. He got what he deserved.