Philosophers' Stone

Sometimes love is a long road.

On a winding course I travel light,

on a search for inherency;        

along the banks of a mazy river      

where I make my final plea.               

 

Along the trail of moss-grown stone,  

half-hidden by the stream;            

are touchstones that embolden me  

in fostering a dream.

 

And though my walk seems leisurely

my mind is never still,

for one can never rest at ease

with thoughts that come at will.               

 

Along the vale, a cottage hides,

it's there my hopes once reached;

behind it's sombre entrance door

that love had never breached.

 

And thus I left the valley near

in hopes of a surcease

to all the ills of youthful pangs

of one to me deceased.

 

But time has passed eventfully

thus I can bear the sting

of one more chance at happiness

by which my thoughts now cling.

 

So as I trek this sylvan ridge        

I think not of retreat,              

for deep within the wilderness        

a matching heart still beats. 

 

 

Author's Note

Hello

Reviews

[M.A. Hughes]

I really enjoyed the imagery in this poem! The flow of this poem is smooth. The poem almost reminds me a little of Longfellow. I don't know if you take that as a compliment, but I like his work. I'm curious as to why you title this poem, "The Philosopher's Stone." Is it because of this person's journey for something eternal?

[Queen Jummarrium]

that was a wonderful poem. it flowed nicely. i enjoyed reading it.