I wrote a letter to my Love;
another opened it instead
and thought I loved him as my Love
and wrote in hope of what he read.
His words were wonderful and sweet,
a song to make the spirits lift:
within a poem’s subtle beat,
imagination’s perfect gift.
And when I would explain my note
he did not let me speak of it
assuming I was cold, remote
and had that letter lightly writ.
I wrote a letter to my friend;
and though, because I fear his pain
I know this note I’ll never send
nor ever his mistake explain,
I’d tell him this: good friendships last
where passions flare and die again;
and friends forgive whatever’s passed,
but lovers’ joy turns into pain.
My Love with silence works his charms
And though another’s words are better
These roughish eyes and ready arms
Still have my heart, though not my letter.
A contest entry
- Rhyme and Flow part 9 Feelings - 50,000 points series by cricketjeff.
4000 points, ended September 7, 2008, 50 entries
Honorable mention
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Comments
1 - 5 of 5
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This is such a wonderful narrative poem. Stands alone amongst the leading poems this round in tat regard. The rich rhyme in the opening stanza is something that neither judge likes but the poem overall carries that superbly.
Great writing.
We both look forward to your poems in the Finale and hope you will support whatever we decide to do to replace these contests.
Jeff and Sue
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Thank you for the HM - and for your helpful comments
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Wonderful write. For me, it has echoes of William Blake (I'm not sure why) and of that child's game, I Sent a Letter to My Love/ and on the way I dropped it. So romantic and wistful.
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Yes, it does have echoes of the child's game, but I hadn't thought about William Blake. Thank you for your kind words.
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