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The Journey


The trunk sits silent by the door,
empty, of course, as there is naught
that can be placed inside the box;
for the trip, the tickets bought.

The cloak hangs limp beside the door,
its form an unused skin;
the need long gone, so it's left behind;
lost in the quiet din.

The hats rests quiet, there, by the door,
its brim now tattered, torn;
the sash in streamers hanging down,
past the use for which t'was born.

The need for fear, left at the door,
cast off, for adventure hurled.
The journey eagerly set upon,
for death is but crossing the world.


c2009
10-27-09

Author notes

Written for the contest: Yummy Literary Quotes to feed your muse (OPEN TO ALL!)
http://allpoetry.com/contest/show/2464905

The prompt:
4) More Fruits of Solitude by William Penn
"Death is but crossing the world, ......"

A contest entry

A critical comment is invited

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    Comment Suggestion: What is your your first impression?
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Comments

1 - 12 of 12

  • KnightOfTheRose gold member
    November 12

    Edit | Reply
    "The cloak hangs limp beside the door,
    its form an unused skin;" I really liked the description in that. A beautiful metaphor. Great job on this piece and best of luck in the contest.




    -Steve-


  • Draconian
    November 12

    Edit | Reply
    a feeling of leaving all behind, but eludes, very impressive to my thoughts.


    • Elrenia
      November 12
      Edit | Reply
      The intent was to point out what you do not need.
      Thank you for reading.


  • InRain
    November 12

    Edit | Reply
    All I can say is wow; really this is afar any words.
    Truthful, sincere and somewhat intensely gloomy. The images enlighten your rhyme, so where there is dark there is light. I can experience all of what you've written, I can witness it too.


  • Debbydoes
    November 12

    Edit | Reply
    very good!

    first stanza, did you mean to write 'place' or *placed? i thought maybe it was just a typo.


    • Elrenia
      November 12
      Edit | Reply
      It was supposed to be placed. Thank you for pointing that out. And, reading, of course.

      rous


  • GuardianPhoenix7289
    November 12

    Edit | Reply

    A good view on death

    And all too true. For there is nothing that can be brought with you to death, no material items. Nothing from your life, that you acquired through possessive ways, it's really just memories, and that which would not actually burden you physically in any way.

    You described this great, you showed it through a new window, and I loved it, I loved your words. Great job!

  • davelolione gold member
    November 7

    Edit | Reply

    Solitude shine through

    This is a really descriptive write that has me thinking of an old fade black and white photo of a hat stand in a hallway lit by a dusty shaft of light. Rich in texture are your words that describe this scene.

    A job well done.

    I'm not familiar with Penn but I might just get around to discovering him one day.

    Many thanks for such a wonderful read.

    Dave


  • Melee Vau gold member
    November 6

    Edit | Reply
    perfect, such imagery!
    "The cloak hangs limp beside the door,
    its form an unused skin;
    the need long gone, so it's left behind;
    lost in the quiet din"
    great use of te prompt.


  • rrw gold member
    October 27

    Edit | Reply
    I really like the way you put this together... it does have a bit of a Penn feel to it... very simple in its imagery and very comforting in its meaning. Death is such a simple thing, really. This poem points that out. A simple thing and a peaceful thing. No longer does the character need the trappings or protections of this world to journey into the next. Nice soothing piece.

1 - 12 of 12