by Robin A Spicer
Monday, June 30, 2003
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A different view of a familiar subject.
I look, and yes, I see her there,
Lying still without a care.
And I know she waits for me,
This is how it’s meant to be.
Next to her the carriage waits,
To carry her through swinging gates.
Her lips, almost in a pout,
As if she really wants to shout.
I think that it is just a shame,
That I only know her name.
I ask, “What do you really seek?”
Within this life my Angelique.
“What brings you here to my domain?”
From whence, I wonder where you came.
Your eyes through lids, seem to peep,
Though you rest in deepest sleep.
Seemingly in deepest slumber,
Cares and fears all cast asunder.
Would that you’d wake and that you spoke,
And told me of the hearts you broke
I gave to you this precious box,
I lean, and gently smooth her locks.
I look on you with heavy heart,
Alas my dear, it’s time to part.
Still I wonder what you did,
As I gently close the lid.
I know somewhere someone will cry.
And wonder why you had to die.
Robin A Spicer © 2003-07-01
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|Reviewed by Marlene Dawn
|Very well done!
|Reviewed by Leland Waldrip
|Sad, Robin. And well done. I feel the pain.
|Reviewed by Elizabeth Taylor (Reader)
|Beautiful poetry, so sad and full of emotion. Robin, this is an excellent work.|
|Reviewed by Nicole Davis Vergara (Reader)
|This is exquisitely lovely, haunting and so full of emotion...excellant work!