Moors in our Hearts

Attic. Far from the madding crowd. 

Silence sedates sundries and all.

A disgraced honeybee hovers over

the window box while the hummingbirds 

dance out of proportion, their shadows 

mocking them well on the walls inside.

-music stirs from sleep-

A mademoiselle, in bathrobe,

is playing 'thy warm embrace' 

in D minor on her piano, drowned 

and drowsed, her face mascaraed, 

scatters of letters rest upon the wooden floor, 

her romantic blouse sprawling 

on her bed, eating its heart out for her.

She just played on and on, 

vacantly gazing at the glazed frost

veiling the window pane.

In the attic across, akin to hers,

A silhouette was playing Mozart's requiem.

Reviews

[.]

This reminded me of the mist filled images of the works of the Bronte sisters and their settings on the bleak, rain swept moors....

It reads like part poem, part screenplay and creates a gentle sense of romanticism in its use of language and imagery. Two lovers, separated by the mist of the moors, each tinkling those keys in melancholic misery, either for love lost or love torn apart.

A very imaginative and gently stirring piece, Suhd. Very much enjoyed.

[Suhd]

Thanks a lot Doodley. You're too kind.

[Dhara_Ditzy Kat]

There is a fascinating aura to this poem, created by the silence, the mocking shadows of birds and the infinitely stretching emptiness that the mademoiselle and her counterpart, the silhouette, are trying to fill with soul embracing music. Do they manage to reach and touch each other, bridge the chasm across the attics? Something to wonder about. A stunning story for me, dear Suhd!

[Suhd]

It makes me glad that you like this one. Always a pleasure to read your juicy reviews.

[Dhara_Ditzy Kat]

You’re welcome Suhd! My pleasure.

[Verse]

Really strong imagery here, but even more important are the pervasive moods of this piece. Here again, you flow like the pieces being played, and the light, sound and speeds all seem to vary with the tone of the stanza. Hummingbird pace at the beginning, the slowness of a funeral cortège at the end. All in service to the main current of romance and melancholy, presented so very sweetly.

Thoroughly Enjoyed this, Suhd! :):)

V

[Suhd]

And I thoroughly enjoy your ever pleasant reviews :)

[Chris Shaw]

Wonderful imagery you have created here. Your second stanza has some fine poetic expression. I enjoyed the atmosphere in your writing. A lovely read.

Chris

[Suhd]

This is high praise, coming from you. Thanks a lot, you're too generous.

[Coyote Poetry]

Wonderful use of words and thoughts. Your amazing description make the words feel honest and true. Thank you Suhd for sharing the excellent poetry.
Coyote

[Suhd]

Thank you for leaving this kind review.

[Coyote Poetry]

You are welcome Suhd.

[EJ's Horror]

I love the picture you painted but what did you mean by the word "Moor" ?

[Suhd]

Thank you for that. I used the word moor to mean a dark place left to expand and drown in its own chaos.

[danny]

nice twists and turns it's cunningly nice work

[Suhd]

Gracie......

[lessa (kenzie)]

Such a wonderful write, an eye for detail and imagery. well crafted write.

[Suhd]

Thank you Alex.

[EcstaticEuphoria]

"... Her romantic blouse kept sprawling on her bed, eating it's heart out for her." how sensational, how expressive! Loved this poem and like the others, always well written and well done. Thanks for always pouring your heart out for us 😉

[Suhd]

Thanks a lot. This means a lot to me what you said :)

[Karmee]

This is so very good, I really enjoyed this piece

[Suhd]

Thank you :)