Before The Zinnias Poem by Edmund V. Strolis
Before The Zinnias
Before she met him she was sad
and even her gladdest moments felt incomplete
Before she met him she had surrendered
Grudgingly resigned to her cursed fate
Such is the weight of long lonesome days
Before she met him she lived more in A dream
A midnight play of wishes granted
Of regrets banished, replaced by sheer bliss
Such are the shapes when dreams meet desire
Before she met him the very world itself was darker
She searched faces for a smiling-knowing glance
But no bells rang, none of the clouds parted
A poor universal joke to never catch his face
Such are the memories of life ~ before the ZINNIAS
I like the swift movement in this poem. You don't narrate this woman's bio, just drop us into her life, let us experience her dead-end routine which miraculously is up-ended by a transforming experience. So much depends upon the flowers in our lives.
Yes and the philosophy fits us all. That perfect companion, one that was lost or one only dreamed of. In this writing she has desires but is losing faith and over time the edges of her desire become blurred and frayed and are slowly losing the resemblance to the dream that was once so clear. I was inspired by wondering what many of the poems would be like from people on this site if their days were now all Zinnias and tea with someone they loved while sharing each other and their amazing good fortune.
Edmund, this write is exquisite! ! ! ! But then all of your poetry has that certain touch of exquisite no matter what you write about. Your works are all filled with feelings - emotion's, most all of us can identify with. You, dear poet, have the makings, of a Great poet. You remind me so much of many of the truly great poets of the past...this was so heart touching and beautiful...true poetry at it's best. This is a 10+++++++++++++++++++
Well thank you so much Theodora. You know I was inspired to write this by reading poetry written by people that clearly long to meet that person that they long for. Poets frustrated by the seemingly fruitless search for a person that completes them. The clouds hang lower in their world. The days always seem to lack the sharp brilliance that one feels when in love. All of which can change when tow like-minded souls have the good fortune to meet. Their worlds then open up. Smiles come easy, their hearts sing and gardens overflow with color. Flowers snipped and arranged for two to enjoy, over breakfast, lunch or trading thoughts over tea and the Sunday paper.
I love me some Zinnias. I have many, fairly large and dense beds of them throughout the yard. There may have only been one zinnia in the photo. : -)
That is so amazing that you caught that Kelly, Yes one Zinnia, A Dahlia, Peony. What appears to be the leaf from the Geranium, maybe Aster, Yarrow, Stone crop? What appears to be Iris but that would not make sense being a spring bloom versus the autumn. I tell people that you can't go wrong with Zinnias. Vivid colors and healthy blooms right up until frost's bite. Easy to re-seed. Next year I plan to drown in gaudy flamboyant displays of Zinnia.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/25/2024 7:47:12 AM # 1.0.0.1119
You displayed a sympathetic knowledge of women in this piece- women who dreamed and whose dreams didn't come true and didn't come true and the years passed until they are giving up hope and then the dream bursts into bloom - - you painted this story with deft strokes and a certain tenderness. This is a 1000000000000000, but I will have to settle for a 10.