Roses For Poetry Poem by Barry Middleton
Roses For Poetry
No more her poems capture me,
within a spellbound dream,
no more to send me soaring high,
to lands I've never seen.
No more to hold me in a trance,
her song alive with fire,
her melody has vanished now,
like cold and lost desire.
No more she comes to comfort me,
to banish every fear.
No more will whispers of her verse,
cause me to shed a tear.
Her poetry is lost in death;
and here upon the tomb,
dark roses wither with the cold,
yet never more to bloom.
Your poem captures the heartbreaking grief felt when love departs. But does it really leave us? Love is a force of such magnitude that it cannot die. It changes form, but it does not leave us. We miss its earthly manifestation, but the essence is always with us, kept alive by our hearts and minds. We must find comfort now in memories. The embers are always there. Remembering love stirs those embers and soon they flare up like dried kindling. A most touching and beautiful poem.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/26/2024 5:09:23 AM # 1.0.0.1119
Poetry is great comfort to the soul but at times nothing seems to heal the bruises of the soul. A great write depicting the tragedy of human life that nothing captures or entices the imagination forever.10
Grief is never ending. It changes. It eases with time but it remains as long as memory. Thanks for the response.