The Final Word
Do you hear my hand upon the door?
I have a key that works just as before.
The narrow bed grows cold until my visit,
and I, as years of old, have come to sit
again beside your fire of bitter blue.
Stay still with me and reminisce a few,
our discourse now a long soliloquy,
that issues at some length alone from me
while mute remonstrance simmers silently,
as I at last the final word am given,
and you, my dear, must lie at last and listen.
Your poem, your blog are almost as lovely as you. Been in a rut, but your poetry always speaks to me. Thanks for giving so much of yourself to us, my friend.ReplyDelete
Sometimes it takes a while and fates intervention but patience usually will win the last word, which is only good for letting go of al the words that came before it.ReplyDelete
Yes, that bitter blue fireReplyDelete
And to lie and listen on the narrow bed.
snort....ha....fun...yes, that is one way to get the last word in...love the romantic language, it slows me a bit in reading but is fair on the ears....the fire of bitter blue....a nice touch...ReplyDelete
Lovely lines, but am I right to feel so haunted by them?! Very well done.ReplyDelete
Yes I agree lovely and haunting lines.ReplyDelete
I can see the two of you, one sitting, your back an inch away from the chairback, stiff and straight. Eyes glistening,in remorse and regret.ReplyDelete
The other lying in bed, silent. Eyes listening, in gentle admonition.
d'verse poets!!! My link was wrong! I wanted you to read the previous poem, Dream Deferred. In truth, I wrote this one after reading some Millay, so the style is inspired by her, but the other uses words from Shakespeare, Poe, and L. Hughes. Sorry about that!ReplyDelete
I agree about the haunting quality, Karen. And now I'm off to read the previous one. If the link is till open, I'll post it for you.ReplyDelete
Oooh, and I definitely see Millay.ReplyDelete
Aha! A trick! We get too for one. Thanks for supplyin gthe poet, millet. I had been thinking Browning and searching my mind, but she di not know ironly around love. On to the dVerse poem . . .ReplyDelete
O, I read your other before this, and did not know it was a prompt. How delightful not to know sometimes.Delete
I love the ending of this poem...at last the one lying there must listen! There is no escape. Flawless rhyming. A masterful write.ReplyDelete