she pushes open fear's portal
entering her mausoleum of silence...
stifling, stale air assails her senses,
almost choking determination
to bury the memories that haunt
the piano sits quietly in the company
of dust motes and a concerto's ghost,
no longer mocking but clearly indifferent...
how long has it been, she wonders,
days, weeks, months begin to slip away
flinging her headlong into the nightmare.
of their own volition her slippered footsteps
carry her forward, demanding an intervention,
a cleansing, an acceptance of truth..
sheets of yesterday's joy still wait,
as though she had never left them, as though
the melodies had not been silenced...
icy fingers touch her ivory 'd heartbreak
and her eyes, wide as an azure sky, close
quickly against such pain, such loss.
just one key, she promises herself,
as a quiver echoes within the depths of her soul
but hands long denied their passion
move with unerring certainty
upon ivory memories and ebony dreams...
she weeps into the silence
until but one tear is left to fall
and with her final chord, it too
falls into the silence of forever.
the dust motes dance away, while
a concerto's ghost applauds
and she sits quietly, wondering
if it can ever be enough...to simply
remember the music, to mourn its loss,
and to accept the silence.
she remembers the melodies
of yesterday, their echoes clinging
to a distant dream, a forgotten song...
could she ever truly forget?
even in the silence her passion lingers.
she will play again,
her blue eyes closing
against the pain, the loss.
it will be enough...she knows it must be.
Your loss, a few years before mine, is echoed within. I had to come back and read this again, letting my aches and memories settle in where they sleep more peacefully. Your writing helps, even while stirring the ashes of a love, personified. This is what I read in your poem. I'm aware that it is a similar, but quite a different story with you. Blessings and peace to your heart, Lovely Lady. - Bill
Just fabulous poetry Myrna and how it's metaphor rings into the situation of a frined I've just corresponded with...a love that will never die amid silence...and the desire to know or have one more taste of the romance through a crude attempt to reach him once more, aware of the risks of the devastating result. Such drama in poetry and reality...Bravo!
xo Taylor
This is a splendid write indeed. This is filled with remarkable written talent. Well written to be exact.
Reviewed by Elizabeth Taylor (Reader)
Reviewed on October 20, 2006
"...she remembers the melodies
of yesterday, their echoes clinging
to a distant dream, a forgotten song...
could she ever truly forget?
even in the silence her passion lingers..."
Contraband Marriage, traveling along the hemline of loving after incarceration, is a love story written in lyric and free form, set in reality with a different ever after.
A Collection of Voices from Around the World is more than just a poetry compilation. It is a partnership of poets from around the globe brought together by an internet poetry forum. That forum, poetrypages.com, has been the home of many a fine poet s
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Chanti
ET
Fee
Susan
xo Taylor
We should always hold on to a vestige of that which once was..
Deeply poignant words Myrna..
Peter
(((HUGS))) and love, Karla.
a celebration of loss and the human spirit
good write
john+
of yesterday, their echoes clinging
to a distant dream, a forgotten song...
could she ever truly forget?
even in the silence her passion lingers..."
Great lines...
Elizabeth