Wakefield Mahon Poems

Picture
Living here, in a mountain desert,
Upon an August afternoon,
Value lies in a water glass
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The plains were still as the sun set down
A silent man rode into town
And as he rode, the people stared
At the shadow with long and dusty hair
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What do I do when he isn't around?
Where do I turn when I'm feeling down?
How do I make it through each dreary day
When I'm falling down on my knees and pray,
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Concrete jungle, mirrored eyes
What is and what you see
Hell or iron paradise
Becomes obscurity
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Why, you ask, have I stopped writing verse?
But, know you whether that be blessing or curse?
The words of my pen are the words of my soul,
Where once flame was is now dark and cold.
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How shall I show the love I keep for thee,
That thou wouldst take heart in my words?
Should I paint a portrait that thou might see,
That my love shall forever endure?
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Illumination, a golden hue
Slowly night's blackness turns to blue
A rooster crows at the rising sun
Nighttime is over. Day has begun
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I see her lovely face and cry
The one I loved in time gone by
Now so distant and so cold
She loves me not, so I've been told
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You wait for her again today
Maybe she speaks only French, Spanish or Italian
Sometimes she is kind
Other times she is rude
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Watching how the flakes fall down
A promise of what is to come
I have to smile and think a while
About a special one
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