Haunts and Hollows

 

I am mindful of the quiet that follows

and clings in shadows of thought and venery,

and I am aware of the haunts and hollows

that creep through the cracks inside the wall of me.

 

Time unravels within long currents of hair,

cascading down the curve of my autumn spine.

I wait for the then in the here that was there

when I was bathed in love-light and you were mine.

 

I slip into your presence to stroke the light

and to wrap your touch around my burning dream

as the meadowlark sings from her pale blue height

against the rippling echo of the stream.

 

I wait for the past in the shape of your ghost,

pursuing fireflies in the back of my mind,

as fog drifts from the tongue of the eastern coast

toward tomorrows that time will leave behind.

 

The blue breath of morning is hushed in your name.

Love is calibrated in sad tears of truth.

The sunrise is perfect in its gilded frame,

gleaming on the door sill of my fading youth.

 

You live happily in a world of your own.

My memory mingles with the rain, with dust;

but you live on as a monolith of stone

that time cannot diminish nor weather rust.

 

I sense all your dreams as they launch for the skies

and lay their shadow on the breadth of my heart.

I love you no matter, whether rest or rise,

whether we are together or far apart.

 

This life is too short and memories too few.

The ache has intensified more with the years,

and I’ve not forgotten the wonder of you

despite the distance and the tracks of my tears.

 

 

Author's Note

Reviews

[icelandicblue]

I agree with Sarah regarding the classic leanings in this piece. It is beautiful and the loss is a wide cavern that can't be filled by the memories we carry no matter how we wish it were so.

I wait for the past in the shape of your ghost,
pursuing fireflies in the back of my mind,
as fog drifts from the tongue of the eastern coast
toward tomorrows that time will leave behind.

You create such a density of sadness that I feel deep inside myself. You are a most talented poet.

[Girl Friday (Sarah W.)]

I've been here before, but not quite in this way... I love the journies that your writing takes me on. You write in long lines with lots of descriptors, perhaps some would call it "wordy", but to my eye it is exactly what is needed. I love this kind of writing, because it reminds me of the old classics...I feel Yeats and Keats and even some Coleridge...well done.

[Pete Langley]

You have the extraordinary ability to turn a much-travelled theme-path into beautifully expressed original verse, Linda Marie. Bravo. P.

[OTownPete]

You have presented some wonderful word play within the body of this finely tuned piece of rhyming poetry. Time cannot dull the memories that truly matter within one's heart. Your friend in words, Pete

[Neville]

I could bathe in these words, they flow so sublimely well. I will continue to read as long as you continue to write

N

[Gleb Zavlanov]

A very unique, heart-felt, powerful, lyrical write. I love the way you use your words to express one of the most complex emotions. Very well done.

[zainul]

I adore the amazing song of your heart that emerges like tears of pearls.

[David Lewis Paget]

A wonderfully nostalgic look at a past love, one which stayed with you despite your parting. There is an intensity in your poetry that is a reflection of some deep feeling that captured your soul, and wouldn't let go. I admire the skill you display in choosing the appropriate word, and in firing our minds with your imagery. Glad to see you back.

[Abdul Aziz]

Whenever I read your poetry, the first instance of which was I think a few years ago, I try to find something, some little thing to criticize. But I always return defeated. Believe me, I'm trying my best to find something to assure myself there can't be someone as talented as this, but everything you write just flies in the face of logic.
I do not want to quote many lines, as I'm sure I will end up quoting the entire poem, but I do have to say that this made me stop and read it again and again till it made perfect sense:
"I wait for the then in the here that was there when I was bathed in love-light and you were mine."
I do believe this should have been featured in Palgrave's Golden Treasury, but time, being cruel as it is, decided that Palgrave should have lived a century earlier.
Thank you for delighting us with this poem!

[Linda Marie Van Tassell]

Dear Abdul,

Thank you for such wondrous praise. You are very kind. I'm pleased that you selected the very line that, to me, resonates the heart of this poem. "I wait for the then in the here that was there." It's a poem of reflection on the one true love of my life, whom I still love even now. The years never unwind this truth, and my heart is ever fixed. It's sad, but true.

Once again, thank you. I am humbled.

Linda Marie

[Abdul Aziz]

I am indeed not good enough to criticize your poetry. But I must say that your poetry makes me feel better, because it reinforces my view that rhyming need not always be associated with just cliches and cliched poetry. Your poems are stunning examples of the power of rhyme. Please do post more often!

[Linda Marie Van Tassell]

You're so sweet. Thank you for making my day! :-)