a chair, a love, and a sunset by the sea.

a poem/story...

The sunset was brilliant, as each dusk it would be
shining across the churning waves and foam of the sea.
To this house on the shore that an old captain called home
the suns warm light through it's window shone.
In the front room, where the sun's rays would dwell,
sat only an old leather chair with a story to tell.
This chair is where the captain each sunset would rest
with his eyes on the sea, as though expecting a guest.  
For him this chair was magic, for though old and weary,
he could see things from here, not faint, but quite clearly.
Things that gave him hope in this life near its end
and kept his soul warm with this fire deep within.
The fire of his true love that always would be,
never dampened by time or the depths of the sea.
The sea, where she rested as the years would pass,
with her promise to meet him on the voyage,  his last.
In his longing for her,  desperate for moments to share,
it's then he found magic  in the old leather chair.
Each dusk as he sat, by the orange sea and skies,

it's glow bringing  life to the old captains eyes,
dreams shaken awake, a vision so real
that he alone could see, and his heart deeply feel.
Rising out of the dancing waves and the foam,
arose his true love, as though  coming home.
Her beauty not faded,  hair clinging to her face,
her silhouette adorned,  in a dress of silk lace.
The magic of the chair, was though the captain sat still,
eyes closed , yet open,  his passion to fill,
he'd leave the chair and meet her on the shore,
in the light of her beauty, the sun needed no more.
With the rhythm of the waves, and song of the wind,
hand in hand, embraced,  their love danced again.
As the sun bowed deeper, and passions fire gave light,
unaware of the day's passing, to the star sprinkled night.
They would waltz into morning, then he'd wake from his dream
eyes open, and a smile, for how real it seemed.

 

For years his dreams lived, in his enchanted chair,
but this night was different from the others he'd shared.
As the evening sun set and the waves churned and foamed,
his true love seemed to be calling him home.
Rising from his chair, this time it did seem,
was more real than before, not merely a dream.
Running to meet her,  his heart raced with fire,
their touch erupting,  with fulfilled desire,
the foam dripping from her breast, laden with soft, silk lace,
his lips kissing her cheek, the salt he could taste.
Though not the salt of the sea, but from joy shed tears,
knowing together they'd be always, not  measured in years
their dance no longer to the waves or the wind,
but to the rhythm of their heart, loves song with no end.
As their passion burned in their torrid embrace,
he grasped tightly at her dress of soft silk lace.
He now knew the magic wasn't really in the chair,
rather  in their souls as one, and had always been there.
This time as they danced and the sun did rise,
they kept dancing, young again, under the azure skies.

 

In the morning as the sun rose, and a loved one stopped by,
to check in on the old captain, to see if all was fine.
Her heart became heavy, as she saw sitting there,
the quiet still body in his old leather chair.
She lovingly covered him, then leaned over and near,
and kissed him goodbye, and  tasted the salt of a tear.
The people that knew him,  hoped that in his last sleep,
he dreamed a dream that he wanted, that always he'd keep.
And often they mused about the smile on his face,
and clinched in his hand, ..on his heart, ...the piece of soft silk lace....

Author's Note

This is a little long and is as much a story as a poem. It was one of my first ones. Was given three random words (chair, foam, and lace,) and wrote something, an early exercise I gave myself.
and do ignore the grammar problems and punctuation....I just enjoyed the creating!

Reviews

[cest la vie]

For someone who had the sea as her backyard, I connected to this piece immediately. Your flow is so dream-like. Filled with love, longing, sadness. My fav line (usually is the closer)

"And often they mused about the peaceful smile left on his face,
and clinched in his hand, ..on his heart, ...the piece of soft,silk lace...."
This made me close my eyes and sigh. Simply a beautiful tale..

[Lizanne]

You took three words and created a beautiul work of word art. So vivid in description. This captured my attention from beginning to end. A very moving adult "fairy-tale" that draws one into the world of an old man's fantasy and carries us along to her fulfilling the promise made and coming back for him. Who is to say that the beginning is imagination, could it be possible that their love transcended the realms of life and death? Loved how it ended with him clutching the piece of old lace, as if to leave behind a memento of the power of their love and the one who came to take that final walk with him. A very gifted pen moved across the page with this fantastic poetic story.

[emmajoy]

The sea, where she rested as the years would pass,
with her promise to meet him on the voyage, his last.
In his longing for her, desperate for moments to share,
it's then he found magic in the old leather chair.

Those words seem, to me, to be the chore of your beautiful writing. It's wonderfully crafted, very much a prose-poem of the best kind and I find it very moving. The end is sad, but, somehow, it's the perfecting ending to a gentle poem about love.

Thank you for sharing your post.. it's a pleasure to read it.

[Jolly Jake]

I really really enjoyed reading this!
It was as much of a story as a poem, but i think that's great. It had me holding my breath to continue and really pulled me in.

Well done!

[Michael X]

absolutely, youve a great way with words hoyt, this is immensely detailed anf tranquil and vvid.
transporting and makes the reader feel like they are in the moment, you have talent my friend

[Kara Emily Krantz]

oh gosh.. this i just lovely. LOVELY!

I can tell right away that you have so much talent, simmering there beneath the surface, ready to be explored and let out. I'm excited to see where you go, and how you grow, as you explore new depths of your writing. This is really a wistful, lovely piece.

"He now knew the magic wasn't really in the chair,
rather it was in their souls as one, and had always been there."

I really liked those lines in particular, but there were plenty that had such a whimsical, lilting quality to them, and a hint of something more than the average poem. You steer away from cliche, while still touching upon the universal within us all.

Enjoyed the read :) Hugs!