On observing a sadness
With the ache of memory
she suffered his weight
the insufferable boredom
the physical presence
she had not carried it well
neither her heart
nor her back
remained unbowed
20 Saturday Jul 2019
Posted Haiku, people, Poetry, Short Stories
in22 Friday Dec 2017
20 Saturday May 2017
Posted ., Blogs I Like, poem, Poetry, Short Stories, Thoughts
inTags
age, dotage, life, passion, poem, poetry, relationships, romance, Shakespear, youth
( an observation of my contemporaries, now I hate catching myself whistling)
Once the essence of romance,
now reduced to shadowing his wife
around charity shops and supermarkets,
his drawn cheeks constantly puckered with
that revolting suck, blow, tuneless
whistling that declares a man has entered his dotage,
devoid of the hope of passion
and surrendered to banality.
‘How does he love me?
With adoration, with fertile tears,
With groans that thunder love,
with sighs of fire.’
‘Yea.’
23 Saturday Apr 2016
Posted Haiku
in