My Lady Was a Poem

My Lady Was a Poem

 

My lady was a poem

just waiting to happen

A flurry

of words balanced …

on the

wings of explorers

Reflecting

the joy on the face

of new parents

The pride of a father

and the

love of a mother

With all but a trace

of the smile

she was known for

And let’s

not forget the way

that she moved

which once

made her famous

Nor the

lavender shawl

that she

wore off her shoulders

My lady

was a poem

just waiting to happen

On the lips of her lovers

and in the

prayers of disciples

She was

a flurry of words

unhurried, yet spoken

At home

in cathedrals, bordello

or ghetto

Now gone tho I hear her

but only

in whispers and echo’s

I still sense her

in shadows and embers

and mist

on the hill though

All the places we loved

I try to

scribble in note pads

My lady

was surely a poem

just waiting to happen

yet barely

captured in moments

and now truly gone …………

 

Reviews

[Lorry]

I think you done rather well here Nev in describing all those things that make her that person within your memories, heart and soul.
Sometimes inspiration strikes and we capture our essence of theirs, but mostly we just drift off in the memory, looking through the ow at all those things that were, with n ever so slightly dopet smile on our faces as we recall all the little details that make them so memorable.

[Neville]

much more than just muchly appreciated Loz .. mightily more n then some my friend ........read more
much more than just muchly appreciated Loz .. mightily more n then some my friend ........

[Arundass TP]

Nicely written poem. Each line was attractive

[Neville]

.................... thank you kindly my friend

[Chris Shaw]

A muse now gone reflected on and her presence still felt in many places even though time has moved on. Her essence captured in whispers, shadows, echoes, embers and mists. I would say she has never left you. Death doesn't destroy memories thankfully. Yours here tell me her essence is still very much alive in your poetry. Wistful and romantic.

Chris

[Neville]

You are indeed most perceptive Chris .. Many thanks for showing an interest in these words of mine ... Much and always appreciated,

Neville

[barleygirl]

LOVE! LOVE! LOVE! This reminds me -- I've always loved your longer poems the best. You really get whipped up into a frenzy of imagery & feeling whenever you let 'er rip! I love how your tribute implies that "your lady" had a life prior to knowing the narrator & how everything in a life comes together to beg a poem to be written of such a life! This message kicks butt! Who wouldn't wish to be the lady who inspired this? (((YOW!))) Fondly, Margie

[Neville]

That'll do more than just nicely Margie, that'll keep this old fella smiling for quite some time yet .. seriously hope you are safe n well out there my friend .. will be in touch shortly (GRINS) widely, Neville

[barleygirl]

I won't whine about the cold since it's running about 10 degrees above frosty & everyone else is already dealing with snow!

[Neville]

its 6 degrees Celsius here and I've been moaning since September :)

[Tom]

She is in the air we breathe, the sea, the sky, the stars, a poem written, a poem yet to be written, she is omnipresent, ubiquitous. such beauty and depth of soul lives forever within our hearts ...

A powerful, pensive poem, beautifully scribed my friend!!

[Neville]

Hey Tom, many thanks my old friend, I can't thank you enough for the visit and kind review you just left here for me ... Stay well and safe ..

Neville

[jacob erin-cilberto]

this is like Mary Magdalene meets the muse.
She is real, palpable...we touch her, feel her, use her but at the same time, respect her.

j.

[Neville]

... Thank you jacob .. she was indeed real and well respected.
N.