Memory embellishes
or it forgets.
Pain it replenishes
with regrets.
Sorrows are carried
to tomorrows
with losses parried
by more sorrows.
But joy? As the very
wild suspense
of hope, secondary
reminiscence
leading to discovery
of splendid Memory?
There without recovery:
another territory.
Dare we ever even guess
what our Future brings?
Wanton wondrous happiness
as imagination sings...
But there the cycle begins--
just to be suspended,
Old Age inevitably wins
as happy dreams are ended.
Memory embellishes
or it forgets.
Pain it replenishes
with regrets.
Author notes
Terry-too?
In a list
A contest entry
- Beautiful minds....please enter. by islekine.
760 points, ended January 11, 27 entries
Honorable mention
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Do you see old people as stereotypes?
Comments
1 - 11 of 11
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HOODWINKED !
This is a somber, eye-opening poem that reflects much life gained truth. Memories, pain, sorrows and joy all find their places in the pages of our lives and we seek some sort of balance. Thanks for sharing this thoughtful poem.
Write On!
You have been Hoodwinked today by The Poetic Bandits
because WE CARE! 
Dennis
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Outstanding!
I see this poem has been honoured by an original oxymoron, and well deserved of the honour. To be able to put such complex thoughts into words of eloquent simplicty is true talent.
I see all the meanings in this reflective write and love your subtlness of expression, which gives rise to many breezes of emotion.
The flow and rhyme leads us on an easy glide through each verse; with the repetition completing the poem in the last stanza and enticing us into further lingering thought.
This is a true gem of a poem...alby
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Brevity is wit?
But only when greater wit responds! Thank you for yours!
Most would skim through this poem and see superficialities, while it seems, alby, you went from stepping-stone to stepping stone pausing in the midst of its flow of life, as I did while it was written.
The losses, so many deaths, all who were older, many younger too, all kinds of losses. So many happy things for balance, friends, events... Meeting very special people, most, at least a generation younger than I, and predictably at the end, only the end, to be left with regrets.
From what you said, I think you crossed the waters with me,
and the sun came out!
Thank you!
Terry
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I really like this poem, Terry... it's going straight into my favorites. The repetitive first and last stanza's... so true to life. You and I know first hand what this all means, what it's like to live with and through it all. You've said it much better than I, though.
A very meaningful, profound poem and the free written verse is both simple and complex in it's meaning.
An excellent piece
Dee
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Complex simplicity?
Wonderfully original oxymoron in your thought!
Thank you so much, Dee! But then, so is Life. There is a thread in Forums just now where they have been trying to find a definition of a poem, and pretty well limited it to the necessity for emotion.
I suspect they have not lived enough
to know it lives unsaid in the rough.
Terry
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Memory is a double edged sword and we alone have the power to weald it's direction. So we learn to fly in our dreams and dance in the rain.
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Taken for granted
Memory also happens in spite of what we choose.
What is sad are the gentle little bits that we lose.
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The repetition of the first § really brings the poem to a close. Well done.
This poem is so profound, and the depth of your thoughts is amazing. The fact that you could make something so complex into simple stanzas is nothing short of amazing.
Thank you for sharing, and good luck.
Zach -
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Afterthoughts, Zach
About the only thing I can say is that I typed what came.
And that I thank a most helpful Muse!
Looking back at what you wrote, your perception illuminates what was clear but too easy to take for granted.
Putting it in all honesty, I would have been unable to write that as a PLAN, make numerous drafts and altered versions, to delete and rewrite, then to edit (as in English class we were taught to do, and as a teacher I deplored but had to say.)
Conscious intellect fails every time to catch magic nouances of meaning with more than a semblance of grace. What comes unplanned as this did, surpasses surprises.
Very astute comment, Zach!
Terry
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Wow. I can't find the right words to say how much I really enjoyed in this poem. I think it hits very close to home.
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It could be because I lived it.
I'm glad.
Terry
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