He whispers;
"Come",
but I will not,
hands firmly planted behind my back,
I try to hide from it,
this feeling of soft regret,
choices made too late to take back,
roads that cannot be walked upon again,
the gate is closed-
the lock rusted shut,
with memories I can't forget.
He said;
"I love you!"
but I knew he lied,
he loves being loved,
cherished and held in memories,
but my heart is overflowing already,
and there is no room left to add one more...
He smiles at the pain,
his game causes to me,
but I am stronger than this,
I have learned to forget,
else my heart would have burned long ago,
raging flames of passion I cooled with the ashes,
and dumped them in those bins marked;
"place hot coals here"
I walk along the beach,
while the pelicans swoop low,
skimming the water with their wings,
and think;
I shall be like them,
riding thermals the storm brings,
and when lightning flashes and touches the earth,
I too shall find shelter from this storm,
and wait with folded wings protecting my heart...
It's not what I wanted to say,
but I have forgotten his name again,
when the storm ends,
I will walk along the beach,
perhaps I have written it in the sand,
if the tide has not washed it away,
I will see it and remember-
Maybe my mouth will form the sound,
and I will taste the sylables on my tongue,
I remember black hair and eyes that shine,
perhaps not.
He says;
"I am crying..."
and I ask;
"Why?"
You have to go,
and I can't stay,
It will never work anyway-
"I loved you!" he insists,
"Ah,
But that was yesterday-
And the pelican's wing touched down,
breaking the surface of the water,
I watched her go down for the sweet morsel,
swimming just below the waves,
You said what I've wanted to say for the last few days, thoughts and feelings I've jotted in my private journals, sometimes as poems, but not posted publicly because someone somewhere will think it's all about him, perhaps pout and stop speaking. :-) Thank you, Retta. Wonderful work, universal writing, reading our hearts. ~~Nordette
I've missed our work Retta. How unfortunate it is that I have so little time to read the work of inspired artists such as yourself. This is an incredible poem with a powerful climatic end. I've always said that good poetry has to leave a good lasting impression. This does!
Nothing more needs to be said.
Chanti
Reviewed by Kate Clifford (Reader)
Reviewed on August 14, 2005
Powerful writing that I have learnt the truth of. great write.
Reindeer, as usual, with your unique style, flare, and awesome gift along with the extremely intense awareness that you possess, surly allows your many readers and devoted fans to swoop in right along with you, and your outstanding poetry, time-after-time, my gifted friend. There are so many exceptional lines (as many others have clearly pointed out), and fantastic phrases that have been tightly interwoven throughout this incredible piece, that one can easily become memorized yet, still be able to find the necessary strength and hope one needs even after it seems that all else has drifted away. I have honestly enjoyed the read and absolutely do appreciate your unwavering dedication in enlightening the masses with your timeless offerings. Thank you so much for sharing your brilliant mind and astonishing work. Take good care and be well.
Retta,
Ah, but she will surface, and when she does, she'll bring with her the strength of the mighty eagle.
Her hunger will be no more, though she will continue the hunt.
Beautiful write Retta, once more.
Just stunning, Retta. Your linking of the human conditions and emotions with the natural world and your very fine observations of it are no less than breathtaking. You are keenly sharp in the way that you both see and express the linkages. This is so delicately and sensitively interwoven that you allow the reader to undertake that same passage of pain and resolution. Having watched pelicans in the West Indies, I am fascinated by their agility and tirelessness. Such a vivid picture and metaphor for the enduring and persevering spirit. You have given us a complete motion picture here, Retta, from beginning to end. Wonderfully depicted and encapsulated. TY for your unique gifting. LOL Kate xx
Masterful and bittersweet piece Retta
True love is an altogether different thing
"I watched her go down for the sweet morsel,
swimming just below the waves,
She did not come up. "
Peter
Reviewed by Andy Turner (Reader)
Reviewed on August 10, 2005
Blimey how I relate.
One day love. One day hate.
Monogomous means nothing to so many.
And us fools believe whilst they deceive.
When they realise what they've lost.
Cap in hand, she tries to revive what she's lost...
Reindeer you have me mesmerized with this incredible gem. A winsome tale told with such clarity of thought which you are a master at.
I really loved this poem and applaud your talent!
This is a poetic saga of the finest kind. I can feel your pain and your hidden strength at the same time and in a way feel a little sorry for him as he didn't think he could lose in his game but he did.
Dear Retta, what a pleasure it is, always, to read your poetry! You use, and masterfully so, unique imagery, and a soft flow that induces a wonderful serenity in the mind of the reader, even when there is a touch of sadness, pain - but never anger, never hopelessness... how marvelous! - or nostalgia, in your poetic expression. I concur with Carmen Ruggero entirely, in her sensing of the third stanza... it defines, in the message you convey, my sense of you, as a being who has evolved to a very special stage of inner widom and harmony.
Many blessings of Love&Light*
Alexandra*
Thank you Jerry, my computer files were wiped and I have to reload word, which I usually use to spell/grammar check, I should have caught those errors! Thank you very much for pointing them out so I could fix them, and thank you for your wonderful comment,
I have learned to forget,
else my heart would have burned long ago,
raging flames of passion I cooled with the ashes,
and dumped them in those bins marked;
"place hot coals here"
Beautifully constructed and heartfelt piece of word is this one, Reindeer. Finally, the embers of love have cooled to the point where the heat does not scorch and the narrator can see beyond the inferno of passion. Good.
Third stanza . . . but I am stronger [then] this,
Last stanza . . . And the [peican's] wing touched down,
Hearts of Gold
Synopsis
by
Frank P. Whyte
Portland, Oregon is known as the City of Roses. Of course that’s an odd name for a city whose mere mention conjures images of driving winds and torrential ra
Five years have passed. The sequel to the award-winning Chapel of Eternal Love, this book revisits the same couples in the first book, and where the lives have taken them since they left the altar at The Chapel of Eternal Love
:)Sandy
Oh, sorry for hte birdie
Wonderful poem, Retta
love and peace
peace,
carolyn
Regis
most enjoyable reading
William ......Peace & Love
("Mine!") --smile.
blessin's Sis. Retta,
cynth'ya
Sandie May Angel a.k.a. Sandie Angel :o)
You express yourself well
Cheers
Alain
debby
Nothing more needs to be said.
Chanti
~Linda
Love Tinka
best
Ian
Stunning piece--a beautifully penned, heartbreaking poem. :(
(((HUGS))) and love, Karla. :(
I could visualize your emotions.
Ah, but she will surface, and when she does, she'll bring with her the strength of the mighty eagle.
Her hunger will be no more, though she will continue the hunt.
Beautiful write Retta, once more.
Lisa
Best wishes
peace, Carole
absolutely great.
Really well written.
peace',
Rich Criso Suarez
TRASK
True love is an altogether different thing
"I watched her go down for the sweet morsel,
swimming just below the waves,
She did not come up. "
Peter
One day love. One day hate.
Monogomous means nothing to so many.
And us fools believe whilst they deceive.
When they realise what they've lost.
Cap in hand, she tries to revive what she's lost...
I really loved this poem and applaud your talent!
Love,
Eileen
(((HUGS))) and much love, your friend in tx., karen lynn. :D
Felix
Many blessings of Love&Light*
Alexandra*
Reindeer
I love this:
I have learned to forget,
else my heart would have burned long ago,
raging flames of passion I cooled with the ashes,
and dumped them in those bins marked;
"place hot coals here"
Carmen :-)
Third stanza . . . but I am stronger [then] this,
Last stanza . . . And the [peican's] wing touched down,