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“To love or have loved, that is enough. Ask nothing further. There is no other pearl to be found in the dark folds of life.” Victor Hugo - The Hunchback of Notre Dame, Les Misérables
It’s how she dreams
Of wholeness, of fulfillment,
And of a love that once betrayed her,
(In a cave)
Where her thoughts form as
Drops on stalactites, and wordless
Sighs ingeminate in unending echoes…
It’s how she copes
With loss and despair,
A careworn heart seeking sanctuary
In cold granite sculptures, and those matters
Spent of life; espousing her Quasimodo’s,
She animates them with what
Life has deprived her of,
Her wings carrying her
Through the entrance where light
Floods warmly and where, at times (when
Her spirit soars) she fancies Esmeralda rollicking
With Jolly blithely under heavens felicity with no cares…
And she is Esmeralda (for that moment)
Of her Phoebus
Of her completeness
Of her happiness – but as always,
She is somehow torn from the reverie and
Cast back into the cave, where her jaded heart weeps
From the foolishness of dreaming things that can never be…
So she pulls her knees to her chest, and as her hair cascades over her
Eyes a wash of gray begins, again, to replace all illusions of color,
In a cold ground, where dying roots are fixing her immovable
richard lloyd cederberg
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|Reviewed by Sheila Roy
|I love the line about the stalactites, Richard. And boy can I relate to this poem, especially "From the foolishness of dreaming things that can never be...". This line made me feel sadness for her and for myself, wishing it didn't have to be this way. Fantastic imagery, too. Haunting. Love and hugs,
|Reviewed by La Belle Rouge Poetess Of The Heart
|The cave can be a very lonely place, until the imaginations begin to rule. Insightful, piercing, inspiring to seek colors outside the cave. So incredibly well penned Richard.|
|Reviewed by Michael Hollingsworth
|Very well written. It moves the reader from their chair and directly into the poem. Very powerful and descriptive. Blessings.|
|Reviewed by Ronald Hull
|A most compelling description of agoraphobia, a disease that both my sister and niece suffered greatly from until they discovered a drug (unknown to me) that eased their suffering and allowed them to come out of their caves and once again participate in the world.
Thanks for sharing your compassion and your talent on this timely subject.
|Reviewed by Morgan Merriweather
|eyes a wash of grey , jaded heart, and the places to hide them. so descriptive and haunting. excellent. MM|
|Reviewed by Regis Auffray
|Very compelling and heart reaching in scope, Richard. Thanks for sharing. Love and peace to you,
|Reviewed by Janna Hill
|I wonder how many women might read this and think...He has seen inside my heart.
|Reviewed by Liana Margiva
|VERY TALENTED!!!!!!!!!!!! THIS POEM IS ON VICTOR HUGO'S LEVEL!!!!!!!!!!!! Liana Margiva|
|Reviewed by Christine Tsen
|Fabulous, oh, love this, love this one so much!!!
You write so deftly on shades of the darker side of life's greatest gift of all.
|Reviewed by Douglas Bentley
|Richard, this reminded me of Elijah in 1 Kings 19:9-13
(A man's point of view)
Your poem is about a blue blue blue woman
You must be very close to - to know this well.
Your poetry always astounds me.
db Happy Holidays