jisseru, aishiteru

Beautiful and dying,
In the shallows of his keeping,
Drown the wildflowers.

Too much rain has left them miserable.
And the dying sun has turned them weak.

He looks within,
Toward the colored fields in which they once grew,
And finds it all now black and white.

This place where he found her,
At one time had flourished,
With unspeakable guilde.

A sight unimaginable...
A sleep undreamable...

And as she grazed along she twirled,
With violet tulips in her hair,
And snow white daisies behind her ears.

Her eyes glistened like diamonds,
And her scent,
 Was of wildberries.

He could hardly contain,
 The way that he felt.

At times it came out, jumbled,
Weakened by words.
Shadowed by speech.

"Know these are for you..."
"Forgive me,
I've put it in writing."

"Please know it's endlessly more..."
"I'll give the rest with my embrace."

Would she know they were for her?
Would she deny them to herself?
Did she still feel the same?

He promised her forever.

He promised her that day,
In the field of wildflowers standing tall,
His arms snugging her close.

Champagne and sliced fruit...

He needed her forever.
She promised him too.

 And now she would keep him professing.
He didn't want to stop.
He couldn't stop.

The tragedies that befell him,
Were too much to conquer.
Were too much to bear.

Torn between a troublesome life and unrequited love,
He writes.

Memories of her,
In that sea of rainbow roses,
Stiffles his grieving mind.

He thinks about living,
And dying.
And the relief of sweet death.
 
He releases his frustrations,
Onto a wave flowing black.

Then he dreams of her,
In that field of wildflowers,
And he writes about love.

Sending it off,
Upon the wings of a honeybee,
 With a sweeter meaning than she could ever know.

But then the heavens cast down hate.
And the swollen clouds bleed venom.

Happiness is erased by the feeling of dread.

He's soaked and burning.
Hopelessness overtakes him.
It slams him to the floor.

And he lays there now,
 Broken,
 And unwilling to move.

He hopes for the ground to decompose,
 And grow over him into a beautiful sight.

He is beaten,
 And pessimistic,
And wants not to trudge on.

He remembers his field of wildflowers.
And sees her there,
 Adrift among faeries.

His dream.
His life.

His wife.

What a sweet way to urge him,
To continue living this foul world.
To keep his sight.


For as long as he keeps his memories,
He keeps faith in seeing her,
Once again...

In that field of wildflowers. 

Reviews

[StoryTailor]

A poet as well, I see. It was colorful, beautiful, and yet still kept that serious, solemn air about it. A great write!

[Coyote Poetry]

A very beautiful poem. The poem took me on a trip into kind and sweet memories. Using the wildflowers made the poem a pleasure to read. So many powerful lines in your poem. The complete poem was outstanding.
Coyote