The noble fact while distances proclaim,
is each inspired by tokens of lost cause,
forlorn by these anxieties could I name
expecting what love is, and just because,
I hadn't been too forward - would refrain.
My shyness loomed with possibly austere,
diminishings preferred traumatic hearts
be interwoven whilst it tore them parts
whilst words were indecisive, never near,
my knowing once again, she'd disappear.
Lorena would have told you how it 'twas,
igniting passions wild with slow release,
left over from the storm, like many wars
was giving in, like silence granted peace
it pardons my not giving much to cause.
I grant you, have I not seen beauty like
contentment has assured thy having made
it obviously sacred but unlike,
to mention it again, she'd shyly fade.
Illusions are but empty hopes assured,
by knowing she was there, but having not,
enough to say, than all the ones ignored
who faded fast into how one' forgot;
to worship her like I do, she's adored.
Author notes
This piece speaks of a woman whom I have fondness for but the metaphor is in relation to Venice, and from which much has been read, 'tis slowly sinking, and can be assumed that like the Lorena I know, Venice shall be fated the same.
In a list
A contest entry
- Love? by isabellacohen.
550 points, ended December 29, 2008, 24 entries
Honorable mention
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
what do you think?
Comments
-
well written
well written poem and carefully observed,
I find it sad and i can feel the letting go and loss in your poem. It reads to me like the flirting, then fleeting person which i recognise.
thank you for entering my contest,
best wishes,
Isabella -
this is amazing, wonderfully written and all together amazing, keep it flowing and good luck in the contest
-
wow
this is a beautiful piece
the way she seemed to be kept as a thought
like something of a dream cause shes not to be had
just beautiful
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