Writing about the dull and dreary days in the run-up to Yuletide made me descend into a very melancholy frame of mind. The weather was cold and wet and there wasn’t much going on to cheer me up. I drifted into a reverie. I found myself thinking about Iris and how I was missing her so very much. Before I realised it, I had penned another poem. This was the ninth I had written this year!
However, although the poem was a little sad, it helped me out of the slough of despondency in which I had been wallowing.
I can but dream…
My dearest love, how can I hope to say
How much I’ve missed you since you went away,
And in these lonely six and twenty years,
The very thought of you brings forth my tears
And in my dreams, I walk with you once more,
Together now, as we were times before.
And as I turn the pages of my mind,
The images of yesteryear I find.
And every night, I think such thoughts as this,
Those velvet lips I long ago did kiss,
Those hands, those laughing eyes, your silken hair,
And dreaming, do I see you everywhere.
I greet the dawn and face reality,
Another day that you will never see.
How long, my love, how long do I despair
Of knowing that you never will be there?
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2 comments:
It seems ages since you wrote a poem. I know that some of them are sad but they are still beautiful.
That is really really sad. Some of your poetry makes me cry. Do you ever cry when writing it?
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