He loved her and he was untrue—
Untrue he was, let loved her still;
For out of nether darkness drew
The winds that lashed his wandering will.
She lived in joy all unaware,
In pain and joy his children bore,
While hidden spectres of despair
Drove him to love her more and more.
And when she knew the truth at last,
Suddenly she grew still and strange.
Her rag of haggard youth was cast
Upon the evil winds of change.
She heard, and could not understand;
She paled, and could not bloom again.
So bland death took her by the hand,
Looked in her eyes and made all plain,
Yes, wise death taught her all, and so,
Smiling once more, she kissed and passed.
And he, caught in life's overthrow,
Faced love and death alone at last.
At last, made strong by love and death,
He gave her truth for truth, and knew
Now she had won his perfect faith.
Dying, she doomed him to be true.
He saw love in unusual way!I appreciate the creative art.
As a blues poem it has been perfectly portrayed. Thanks for sharing and congratulation for the poem of the day.
What Seamus said. I cannot add one word to his comment that would add one slight measure of value to what he said. I know when to shut
The reality of humanity is that it is often a deep complexity of entangled desires and motives; weaknesses, failures, shortcomings and aspirations for something far greater. A man who loves his wife, but cannot tame his wayward desires. A wife who sees the best in her husband, perhaps shunning the hints of truth for a greater, more desirable narrative. A truth that breaks her heart and kills her soul. A man left alone with truth and death. A neatly packaged, tightly written poem that, in ironic contrast, tackles the messy reality of humanity without rendering it tritely or superficially, but effectively and strikingly releases the pathos of the consequences of our mortality.
Could not bloom again! ! Thanks for sharing this poem with us.
A poem of unrequited love that has a sad end with her death. It has very nice flow and rhyming. Congrats for being poem of the day.
He loved her and he was untrue.... time and again a woman faces this.....time and again she is hurt to the point as to die for that unfaithful love.......a man never wakes up before losing it all. Complex emotions portrayed so beautifully.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Harriet is buried in a distant land far away from her beloved Chicago. I feel that her best poem is: A Play Festival In Ogden Park. I listen to it often, it should remind us of our youth when we were all Young and Carefree. Harriet is one of my favorite poets.