Tears, vintage champagne of the soul,
Liquid pain, reflections of dreams that were bought and sold.
Fills life's cup with a sweet or bitter taste,
Signaling joy, or the sadness of waste.
To raise life's cup, in celebration or with regret,
Toasting fond memories, or in resolve to forget.
Time Travel through portals of the present and past,
Savoring seconds of joy, fleeting, never meant to last.
To drink from the bottle, again and again,
With the shining hope, for a happy end.
Tears are shed with a hello and a good-bye,
At the first breath, or death's final sigh.
No one can sample your vintage, it is yours alone,
Feelings whisper silently, urging for peace or the need to atone.
So toast life with tears, the vintage champagne,
Drink deeply from the cup, as you taste the pleasure and pain.
This is truly beautiful...a different facet of you that I truly enjoy reading. I do find it a shame that you have not written or posted here recently but then again, who am I to talk?
The depth of this piece is beyond words...I felt every word here...this is the skill that a writer desires and you reached that with me...GOD I cannot tell you how much this touched my soul...
SC,
"No one can sample your vintage, it is yours alone,"...never thought of tears in that way before...and that's just one line and one moment in a poem wonderfully titled, filled with uniqueness and individual style.
From First Love to its destructive end and on to new beginnings, Mary Angela Nangini's poems explore the birth and death of a relationship. The powerful poems are presented in two parts with an introduction to her next book My Ontario Beautiful. (Th
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hug
Kat
Beautiful
Tony
No one can sample your vintage, it is yours alone,
-gene.
Newfie Hugs, Rose
Thank you
Georg
hugs
fee
Be always safe,
Karen
Allen
"No one can sample your vintage, it is yours alone,"...never thought of tears in that way before...and that's just one line and one moment in a poem wonderfully titled, filled with uniqueness and individual style.
John