The long familiar walk up to her home,
A large foreboding farmhouse,
It's sash windows glinting like devils eyes,
She adjusts her gaze to the ever dependable sky,
Gasping for redemption, for her life that is a lie,
Solitude is bliss, like the warmth of a lovers kiss,
The driveway laced with tall trees, hedges and flowers,
Smouldering with nature's power,
Hope, glory refreshes her pale, drawn face,
With the tender touch of falling rain,
It cleanses her soul of sins, not yet committed,
Faults she has many, her history of mistakes, knitted.
She is ripped apart from inside out,
Frayed, faded, jaded,
Reflections in glass, gone is the lass,
Middle aged, she feels like a blank page, without a pen,
Without a thought,
In the early days, she had fought,
Now her eyes is without any spark,
Like a wingless lark.
Silence moves her spirit, that is her mark,
Eamon will be waiting in his suit, crisp, cool,
His opened mouth wide, dark like an icy pool,
Eamon's rage will swallow her up like an old fool,
She slows her pace, as she nears the glistening front door,
Her hands are trembling, as she says out loud,
'No more! '
Suddenly a golden beam shines from the heavens above,
The beauty of the lass appears,
Her skin softens, eyes gleam,
Her heart embraces this strange light,
Her prescence is a gift,
As her soul lifts.
She turns around and runs, runs,
Back to her glorious past,
A change is taking place,
She is back in the race,
God has found her and given her his holy strength,
To unbound her.
Your power of narration is quite outstanding. I thought the first stanza was awesome and then the 2nd got better than the first and the 3rd was better than both the 2nd and the first. You have done well. It is spell bounding.10/10
Great imaging.. Tragic story full with hope.. Great write.. :)
Excellent. Many write poems but a few are poets. You are one one of them. Middle aged, she feels like a blank page, without a pen, /Without a thought, very touchy speech, personal but universal.
A composition that a tells a tale of the ebbs and the floods of her life. Enviable execution and endearing diction indeed Hazel.
A touching story so impressively narrated in a beautiful poem.
God has found her and given her his holy strength, ... oh so nice....10 god has found' and given good round she has her strength with religious wave length
past is past. look for the future. beauty is before you. nature invites you to adjust with thee. Silence moves her spirit, that is her mark, Eamon will be waiting in his suit, crisp, cool, God has found her and given her his holy strength, To unbound her. an xlent emotional write. never stop.
God has found her and given her his holy strength to unbound her. lovely write.
A captivating story in rhyme and rhythm, very expressive!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem
the tender touch of falling rain, ............... Felt it Hazel. This is a beautiful piece. wonderful utilization of poetic license. You have got ability to write narrative poems. Keep it up. I loved the way you have used all the figures of speech. This is not a mere show of words but wonderful use of words that enhance the beauty of your poem.