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Thursday, May 1, 2014

The Last Glass

The Last Glass

It was agreed;
one last drink at Peggotty's.

There, locked in silence,
she placed the ring upon the table
and with it fell just
three years of forever.
Promise ended.

The final goodbye
tumbled from her lips
and nothing could prepare me,
for her loveless voice,
that last time.

How skilfully she vanished,
leaving small reminders;
her perfume on my jackets,
a hair band in a pocket.

And there, upon the table,
the ring,
the glass,
love's final grasp,

all now standing empty.
Patrick Ladbrooke
Topic(s) of this poem: love lost
POET'S NOTES ABOUT THE POEM
It was 50 years ago, but I still remember it as yesterday. The pain of the moment unforgettable. Her perfume has lingered on for many years. It was Tweed by Lentheric, typically her. We were twenty years old at the time.
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COMMENTS
Paul Reed 28 May 2014
It is a great release to write poetry about events that mark stages in your life. It all adds a new perspective and records important moments that would otherwise have been lost. Thanks for your comments on Bluebells, Patrick.
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