An Empty Chair

Sometimes she stands in silence, motionless,     

desolate in a dress of mournful black                                        

but now and then like a gentle caress                            

her face touches the glass pane, whilst the lack

of tears on her childish face mocks the rain                     

falling in an uncaring world outside                                

and a sorrow that’s still too new for pain                      

to show.  For in this brutal turning tide              

of history, it’s just an empty chair.                                

Once again she seems to see him, sitting                                   

fingers twining and brushing out her hair;                       

in the early mourning sunshine flirting.                

But for her love and laughter were too brief                  

and evening has come with this silent grief.                    

Reviews

[W.k.kortas]

Emily has made it easy on me--that's almost exactly what I was thinking; it reads like an 18th-Century epitaph, with the same heartfelt yet somewhat restrained tone. The use of the sonnet form for this type of piece is a clever and aritistic touch. Well-crafted, touching, lovely piece of work.

[Mark Pearce]

Oh my gosh.

And you expect me to point out flaws in that? You must be daft. Talented but daft.

It's wonderful, the way we are slowly introduced to the subject's circumstances, and the way the loss is portrayed � as being too fresh to be registered upon her countenance....

It's all so very, very good.

[Blackbirdsong]

This is quite lovely. I love the internal rhyme which added quite a dreamy quality to this read. My only suggestion would be to delete "seems" from the sentence -

"Once again she seems to see him sitting,"

I had pounded in my head by a writer teacher that "seems" is a weakener and to avoid using it. You conveyed the sense that this man is dead by talking about the mourning dress, etc. so really no having seems brings that image of her mourning making her see things or perhaps its his ghost.

Love your writing as always :)

Is this the one you were telling me about last week?

[Gandré]

Vanessa, what a perfect poem. Absolutely loved it.
romance and this was an unconventional kind of rhymed verse.

[All faded blue]

This is lovely. I noticed in the twelfth line, the word morning was spelled mourning. That caught my eye, and then I thought you should leave it that way. A contrast occurs with "mourning sunshine", as if the dawning of the day brings more grief with the realization of finality. Just an observation.

[Chris Bighorse]

Extraordinary use of rhyme. I hardly even noticed. Most of the time, rhymes are lame but the context and use of these are beyond my capacity. I truely love the engineering of this piece.

Sometimes she stands in silence, motionless,
desolate in a dress of mournful black
but now and then like a gentle caress
her face touches the glass pane, whilst the lack
of tears on her childish face mock the rain

This is just beautiful. So much strength and humility. Great write.

[blacksky45]

very touching! your word choice is strong and so is the imagery. i love the line "childish face mock the rain". the emotion and image i got from this line was really good. good poem and keep writing!

[Emily B]

Throughout the later 1860s there were dozens of mournful songs about the empty chair. This is a beautiful rendition on an old theme. You've painted the picture with a light touch.