A discovery unexpected, a box simple and plain
Shoved back into the darkness
Of an ordinary hallway closet
She could not know the heartache
That simple box contained
As she lifted its lid and peered within
Bound in satin ribbon, blood red as the rose
Were piles of old love letters
Filled with tears, love and verse
Her curiosity peaked, she began to peruse
Each one in turn, empathizing with each emotion
Wondering at these two loves of before
And who they might have been
Each letter signed with four words only
Forever yours I remain
Reading words of love, anger and doubt
Poured out upon the page
The passion undeniable, love unmistakable
Just a passing thought, only on a whim
She wished her man felt so strongly
Shook off just as quickly, he just was not that type
Her hands shook as she finished the last letter
The only one he’d signed
Her breath ceased, her heart shattered
As she saw her own love’s name
There was a certain point in my life where my mind wandered--looking for Romance. Looking for anything that was new and exciting. Your words spoke to me in a way, just such a way. Too often those letters aren't signed. And Romance isn't always to be found in curleque letters and paper hearts. . . . lessons learned.
The twist, the further twist, that gut wrenching twist of the mournful blade as it is driven through the heart and into the soul. One can feel each stab of pain at the further recognition of the depth of heartache you pull us in close, whisper tears to us, and then slap us as you push us away. The acknowledgment that somebody could feel this way for another, acknowledging that your love could not, and then the painful discovery of the truth... this just has that jab, jab, bam... to the mat... feel to it.
Each one in turn, empathizing with each emotion -----I liked this line very much I don't know I find it so exceptional, think it is emotions what the words reveal.. of course I love all lines, nothing is to much here. And, I like how you built it as a story those love letters... never sent... how often did we write them.. beautiful poem and to me, distinctive in style.
This is a moving piece, and although all poems at some point will require some word tweaking to achieve the desired effect, this piece is surprising polished for a first draft. I am not sure if I am simply failing to grasp the ending of the poem, but I can't decide if the letters were written to her but never delivered, if they were written to another girl her love used to or perhaps still does see. It does a good job of building the emotion of romance at the forefront, but the resolution left me somewhat confused. I knew I should feel a sense of loss, sadness, and perhaps regret, but it was unclear toward what I should direct those feelings. Overall a very sound piece.
What a "treasure" to findhoping to find stolen memories, as you have described so vividly with your powerful metaphors. As I read on I am wrapped into a tale that has a unique and surprising end or beginning of new perceptions. Exceptional! Chris**
I think that the ending to this can go in so many different directions because it means so many different things. I love the strong pull of emotion. It's amazing the pull that things like this can have on us. I agree with what someone else said ... I think this would make a great short story or even just a snapshot moment in time write.
This has very stron emotion and feeling, I hope you don't lose the thought and that you add to it as it is a great begining. Let me know when you make any changes, I'm curious to see how/what you change up. This is very intense and sad, not sure if that is the point you were tyring to get across or not but, still a great read. Keep up the great work. Smiles...
This is not my favorite Frost poem, but it is my first Frost poem. Dropped within another book I was reading at age 9, I never forgot it. While I wrote short stories at the time, it was my inspirati.. more..