May those who make promises then break them Airily merry with nary a thought Be sharply recalled to what they forgot May their self-satisfaction forsake them And may they feel what their breaking has brought Good and hard so to get their attention May we find the love they hid as we sought Yet never found now as the wheel comes round
We have been hurt we need hardly mention But having seen promises broken and Hearts along with them the same as our own To reach out in vain for the withdrawn hand Of someone you trusted and fall alone We have felt all this so we understand How it feels to be yesterday's flavor To be once known and then at once unknown
But seeing the truth can make us braver Though it might cost us a part of our trust The rain has fallen and the wind has blown The moon has tricked the sea to lick the land And left only ruin and rot and rust Where castles of promises made of sand Are broken like bubbles and overthrown We leave the breakers to promise the dust
May we find the love they hid as we sought Yet never found now as the wheel comes round
I love, love, love it when a writer understands about the liquidity of words. The internal assonance and alliteration in this poem are mesmerizing. I had to read it again, out loud, because my mouth wanted to taste the familiarity of the sounds. Somebody told me once that the English language was ugly. Here's proof he didn't know what he was talking about! --Charlie
“The woman or man who is a poet, or fiction writer, or playwright, or all of these, is engaged constantly in a jazz ballet of vocabularies, passions, genders, histories, perspectives, death, love, and life. The music of revelation announces itself to
Inspirational poetry, written from the heart and soul. Verses that are well-suited for reading on a rainy day and that are guaranteed to bring a smile to your face.
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Chrissy