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Captain Cur

Rookie - 321 Points (England)

Feedbag of Her Guile

Can it not be as then I prayed it was
all hope I held dissolving from my view;
whatever I felt yet knew not the cause,
what privilege it was and is to love you.
Fortune has played me a suffering fool
to think the thoughts I thought in your embrace.
You washed away and cleansed me of my flaws
forged my old heart inflamed it young and new
tempered on the anvils indifferent face
words of love cry out empty of all grace.

You should have said you loved him more than I,
gossips cheap that chirps loosely like a bird,
I cried the tears of loss that never dry
stunned by truth the lone casualty of words.
Perhaps from your kiss I should have inferred
that your heart was not meant to meld with mine.
When I kissed you what glistened in your eye;
staid echoes from my own heart weakly heard,
love solely manufactured in my mind
perpetuating falsehoods by design?

Unabashedly loyal as a stud
love casually walks through the starters gate,
throws off the reins bucks’ wild in the mud
tossing all who dare mount her in distaste.
Unwise I was, I bit down on the bait,
cold hearts can be broken by a smile,
neighing hoofs raising portents in the blood
trampled under the beauty of her gait
caught on lies and dragged for endless miles
nourished by the feedbag of her guile.

Submitted: Wednesday, May 08, 2013
Edited: Tuesday, September 17, 2013

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Comments about this poem (Feedbag of Her Guile by Captain Cur )

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  • Veteran Poet - 2,757 Points Hazel Durham (5/12/2013 8:42:00 AM)

    A great sense of loss and pain endured with brilliant lines so beautifully penned! (Report) Reply

  • Rookie - 219 Points David Wood (5/9/2013 2:38:00 PM)

    A deep profound poem of loves labours lost. The pain of losing a love is a bitter pill to swallow. (Report) Reply

  • Freshman - 2,381 Points Diane Hine (5/9/2013 5:03:00 AM)

    Couldn't forget a title like that. Fine poem with a galloping last verse! (She sounds like a dreadful old nag) (Report) Reply

  • Freshman - 1,944 Points Valerie Dohren (5/8/2013 5:43:00 PM)

    A poem of unrequited love and yearning. Great metaphor in the last stanza. Altogether an excellent write. (Report) Reply

  • Rookie - 303 Points Poetheart Morgan (5/8/2013 1:40:00 PM)

    The signs are just in front of us but we do not want to see. So, someone will cry louder when the other just shed some tears of guilty. But our cry remains on and on since one day all change Poet. (Report) Reply

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