You could weep a wastebasket full of Kleenex.
I have. You could gnash your teeth and threaten
all manner of atrocities. I have. You could speak,
no, you could cry it into hard rimmed moon nights
and it would not listen. I never. See, I was busy
loving you from the very bowl of the Universe
and you never took one taste. You simply came
and went as the garden I have spent hours on,
as if a bloom or two would be enough. It wasn’t.
There will come a time, when all my bouquets
will be mere flakes of memories and when I leave
you, I will walk quickly, maybe run. You are so small
a plot in all this, I wouldn’t see you even if I looked back.
Author notes
Soemtimes you just simply do not care that it wasn't returned.
In a list
A contest entry
- Power 13 by Melissa Gayle.
425 points, ended January 22, 2007, 8 entries
Honorable mention
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
1 - 7 of 7
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Sometimes its the memories, regardless of good or bad that matter more. This was wonderful.
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thak you somuch....yes, that is true...and how we ocme out of whatever is offered us in the end.
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"You could speak, no, you could cry it into hard rimmed moon nights and it would not listen." Sighhh...An intense penning, crying out for Grace, my Sister...I can see this on several levels; one being a parent speaking to a unruly child...on another, God speaking to ALL of His unruly children...This piece reverberates throughout the universe, my dear Friend...
Wanda
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hee hee, as always, you got it. I gave hints.... Thank you for being under the bowl with me.
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Oh ... I ... See
"Non Angeli sed Angli" - not Kleenex but unclean ex ?
O C Oliver Cromwell to Parliament "Stand not upon the order of thy going, but in the name of God, go at once !"
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Wow, great quote. On takes a risk in supposing what might be being said....but, you know me, I suppose. *smile*
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