The Seven Years of Lonely

Love and life… so much like a feast… There’s that liaison that is shallow and sweet, like too many pastries… a Vendôme perhaps (a licorice meringue, with chocolate mousse and vanilla crème brûlée)... Oh how it’s sweetness coats your tongue and your libido... but you can’t live forever on that… though you might like to try… Or there is that deep and filling relationship, so like a loaf of Pane Casareccio di Genzano and fine Agnello al Forno, delicious roast lamb with rosemary... You swallow it down with the finest Cabernet Sauvignon from 2003…

 

Now often we find others too bland over time… or with too much salt… or turning bitter… like dark coffee… or wild chicory that’s found in the Fave e Cicorie Selvatiche … There are times when foods become too common… lose their flavor… like friendships once desired… now only tolerated… a blandness comes over your meal…  And so at dinner he gives her flowers… white Jasmine, with that rich aroma… and time in the moonlight… and the best years of his life… Maybe she takes them… willingly devours his gifts… no exchange… no barter… empty handed…

 

Life is beggar for some, isn’t it… sparse plates... sparse smiles pass the whiles... and the stale bread fills what it can... Feasted famine… famined touch… hungry skin... unsatisfied… He remembers laughing... but what a distant, unfamiliar sound now... echoed, yet engraved here in the seven years of lonely… Love and life... so much like a feast… Ah, my friends, eat, drink, and be merry… and may this year find you blessed with love and life that satisfies your appetite forever…

Author's Note

"I have made a lot of mistakes falling in love, and regretted most of them, but never the potatoes that went with them." ~ Nora Ephron

Reviews

[Unspoken poet]

I think all of us have made mistakes in our life falling in love with the wrong person. This is so good. enjoyed the metaphors.... awesome write here.

[Just Kim]

wow, such great metaphors in your write. The stale bread fills what it can, I like that. Nicely written and expressed. You are obviously quite a writer, to use such style with your words that build character. Nicely written here sir...

[emmajoy]

' Life is beggar for some, isn’t it… sparse plates... sparse smiles pass the whiles... and the stale bread fills what it can... Feasted famine… famined touch… hungry skin... unsatisfied… He remembers laughing... but what a distant, unfamiliar sound now'

There is something about fine wine and food that feeds every part of one's need and this is no exception! ! Methinks you've been sipping and tasting and still have the hunger writers have for spreading the imagination upon a table as long as the mind'ss eye can see!

Such visual wording.. so typical of you., Owl. And there's that Alice sitting pride of place 0 as every. Think she's thing over those final few words. Like many, she can only hope.

[An owl on the moon]

Ah, thank you for your kindness dear friend. Fine food with those we love can be the absolute sweetest moments of life... and sharing a meal where love once lived might be one of the deepest sadnesses... May you only find joy in your feasts. Always. :)

[emmajoy]

Oh there's such a sadness in your 'and sharing a meal.. ' Can't stand in your shoes but do understand how it is not to look across a table or a touch of space and not see a person or people sharing a feast of togetherness. As Spring really shows itself, so hope life somersaults into happy memories, Owl.

[An owl on the moon]

I hope this too... here... there... everywhere.. Wanting Spring to bring a world of beauty and peace. :)

[‘Thoughts In Time..]

Baked fried mashed or boiled....variety is the spice of life ...but what I’d life without love...nothing ...for without love we are nothing...for love is sweet and kind never wanting needing never envious...love lasts lifetimes...🌹🌹

[An owl on the moon]

Yes, oh thank you precious poet. Love is the everything... the deepest yearning... the purest joy... May it always fill your being.

[‘Thoughts In Time’🌹]

If we have not love we have nothing we are nothing for love is the truth...and in truth we find and are love...🌹🌹🌹Pleasure is mine🌹

[C. M. Miller]

Metaphors, galore! This write left me both thirsty and hungry. No a*s-kissing here intended at all, but your metaphors cut directly to the emotional bone, leaving no fat at all on one's plate. "And so at dinner . . . " to the ending "empty-handed . . ." left me emotionally "empty-handed," as well. I mean, wdf, how did it come to that? (I usually don't quote an author's verses to explain a review, but those verses are simply exceptionally emotive and replete with portent.) Feast. Famine. Emotions are like that.

[An owl on the moon]

How deeply I appreciate your moments here... your insights.. your words that understood too well the painful place a soul can reach when love grows cold at the table of life. Thank you... truly...

[C. M. Miller]

Sometimes it is best to not ask for seconds at that table.