Quietus

Cherry

By Silver Spun Sand

Tue, 02 Jun 2015
  • 6295 reads
16 comments
 
Minutes – stacked each on each, slack, 
as summer’s deckchairs on a winter’s beach...
framed by a window decked out in Breton lace – 
 
a setting sun beset by shreds of errant cloud, stutters 
its dying circle of brightness...surpassing a Matisse.
 
Ink may fade, and paper age under the sun's 
unrepentant light as a silent epiphany leadens
 
chimes from a small, white church, pierce 
the middle distance; follows a quiet, more hushed
than snowfall on a frozen pond – 
 
such a quiet, only follows the ceasing 
of a tolling of a bell, 
 
and I know you will never get to read this, 
but with each word you are there between the lines
as if words are air
 
and I will write and write, and write... 
if this is what keeps you 
a little alive.
Certificate 12
Poem
Silver Spun Sand Poems
Spiritual
Love
Autobiography

Comments

Submitted by tibi popovici on

"ink may fade, paper age", but your writtings will endure, "kept alive..." because of the secret meaning hidden between lines, pure surgery. have no doubt about that.

Submitted by Silver Spun Sand on

Thanks, tibi.  Appreciated.

Tinasmiley

 

Submitted by Art of the Diver on

Oh Tina,

Such a poignant tribute to a lover past... you are one of the greats I believe

I'm not sure if it is your words or your heart that cover my screen, leaving me breathless... Bravo

Take care

Rob

Submitted by Silver Spun Sand on

The answer to your question...both, most certainly.  Thank you Rob.  Your words are special.

Tina

 

Submitted by Rhiannonw on

Was she there with you at the time of this scene? Your verse brings the sunset and the hush after the bells very clearly to mind. Rhiannon

 

Submitted by Silver Spun Sand on

Yes, Rhiannon, she was.  And writing about it, she still is.  The hospice where she spent her last days was in the most idyllic setting, and although not mentioned here, the baaing of the sheep in the surrounding fields, somehow served to accenctuate the peace, and the silence...and the bells of the little white church.

My thanks to you for your intuition, and empathy.

Tina

 

Submitted by Starfish Girl on

Tina, beautiful.

So many great lines and images.

I think you make her live a little for us readers as well. What a lovely tribute.

Lindy

Submitted by Silver Spun Sand on

Blown away by your words, Lindysmiley

 

Submitted by VeraClark on

What a gorgeously constructed tribute and 'a lot alive.' Your metaphors for time and the peace of the scene are transporting.

 

Submitted by Silver Spun Sand on

Thank you, so much, Vera...and I do hope that through my poem you were afforded, at least a few minutes peace and quiet through my words...From recollection, peace is something that, as a commodity, is in short supply for parents of youngsters.  Mind you, there are other things that make up for it, a zillion-fold, and you don't need me to tell you thatsmiley

Tina

 

Submitted by Philip Sidney on

Beautiful and true.  place, images, words are worth all the more when they carry a trace of those we love.

Submitted by Silver Spun Sand on

Your words are wise ones, Philip, as ever.  Thank you for them. They ring so true.

Tina 

 

Submitted by EB on

Writing to keep them alive. It works, keep doing it. 

Submitted by Silver Spun Sand on

EB, I sure willsmiley

 

Submitted by Pat G on

I was blown away by the first two lines. They really hooked me in to this lovely poem.

Submitted by Silver Spun Sand on

Thanks, Pat.  So pleased you took the trouble to read this, and to comment so very positively.  Appreciated.

Tina