The Pearl and the Rose

Just your run-of-the-mill "love and loss" poem

She lingered upon the storming cliff,

As she braved the hail and rain,

And her eyes were heavy-laden,

With tears of quiet pain.

She watched the ship as it thrashed about,

As lightning traced the sky,

And she closed her eyes and bowed her head,

As she softly wept goodbye.

A pearl was clasped in her gentle hand,

And she caressed its polished skin,

As she watched her lover sail away,

Leaving her once again.

Her lover gripped the twitching rope,

As the rigging jerked and flew,

And he looked to the cliff, where he knew she stood,

And his longing only grew.

A tiny pearl which gleamed by night,

He’d plucked from an oyster’s bed.

He remembered when he’d gifted it,

When her cheeks’d turned blushing red.

The sailor wished he’d never left,

And longed to hear her voice;

His tears were shed in honesty,

As he cursed his seaward choice.

Suddenly the ocean swelled,

And the ship was torn asunder,

And the sailor was lost to the rushing sea,

As his cries fell dead on the thunder.

************************

A farmer gazed at his flowing fields,

And thanked his God for the soil,

But still he had no woman’s love,

For all his work and toil.

He knew a lass at the nearby inn,

After whom he’d always pined,

So whenever he came upon the town,

At the inn he always dined.

Amid the raucous laughs and cries,

Of friends and strangers all,

The lass would dance to a fiddle tune,

And every man enthrall.

The farmer’d picked a blooming rose,

To give to the dancing miss,

And he kept it in an old, stained wineglass,

To guard its blush and bliss.

The rose was tragic in the starlit eve,

Its petals like velvet wine,

And he’d made it bare of any thorn,

Along its emerald spine.

The farmer sat by the fireside,

And warmed his numbing hands,

As the lass strode into the tavern-house,

Her hair in curling strands.

Each man stood up as she entered,

And offered his best friend’s seat,

But she took to her place in the middle,

And bared her slender feet.

*******************

She danced by the light of the fire,

As she met the farmer’s gaze,

And paused at the sight of their sorrow,

As her heart was set ablaze.

The farmer stood from the fireplace,

And took the rose from his glass,

He kissed it once to seal it,

Then he gave it to the blushing lass.

A tear escaped her pleading eye,

As she held the rose to her breast,

And her tear slid down her wintry neck,

Lighting on its scarlet crest.

She dashed away to her bedroom,

Where she could sit alone in the dark,

And cry to herself till the morning,

To the song of the meadowlark.

She went to the drawer of her dresser,

Her tears flowing quick and free,

As she retrieved a tiny pearl,

And remembered the darkling sea.

Her heart broke again as she touched it,

Remembering her sailor’s caress,

And the sorrow that welled up insider her,

Was more than mere words could express.

The tragic story of yearning loss,

Of a lass and her two young beaus,

Who shared a simple and anguished love,

Of the pearl and the rose.

Author's Note

Just looking for general opinions/tips - I'm a total amateur, just write because I like to, but insight is always a good thing.

Reviews

[BenKeane]

Wow! This is really well written and actually had a great story, congratulations! The short stanza ballad style is perfect for what you've written but doesn't come across as overs simplified.