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Loves Dues

He left yesterday. Images of fallow roads
puncture solitude, then fade. The sun erodes
my thoughts like a dry sponge. They grow dim -
love’s tendrils wind their way around my heart
to build on solid ground a world apart
that may by gentle force go on and round him.

The sky is not my friend today;
it casts a garish spell on dales and dreams.
It counterpoises Camelot.
I’m heartbroken, quite unwell,
denizen prisoner of inner space
where only elves dare tread and trim with lace
my memory of him; a rejected pawn
with bunker-shaped dome, afraid of dawn.
Weary nomad by my love accursed,
quarrying sadness and thirst
in uninhabited plateaus.
My life dissolves in threads.

Read the riddle of subterranean
fears, my eggshell life. Players in this game
deserve three lives, and I, poltroon,
dare not pursue the sentimental lane
with one puny chance of earthly gain.
To fall in line might take a thousand years
burrowing through love’s harsh confines-
Is it I who writes these lines?

Shining softly on my bed, mock moon,
a gray, autumnal calm spreads down my spine,
has stilled the pain, my oaths may undermine.

Review Request (Intensity): 
I appreciate moderate constructive criticism
Review Request (Direction): 
What did you think of the rhythm or pattern or pacing?
Is the internal logic consistent?
Editing stage: 
Content level: 
Not Explicit Content

Comments

I read your poem - outstanding.
I need to come back as some words are unfamiliar.
Nice rhythm.
BBS ^5

THE MARK
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If you take the time to read a poem then take the time to let the author know you were there. Study it and form an opinion as well, even if it means going back to it more than once. That is basic critique, what Neopoet is all about.

You rhyme and rhythms are so well done.

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Raywhitakerblog.wordpress.com
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to comment on this later. ~ Geez.
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Comments and critique are vital to this site!
Even if you just say: I liked this story or your spelling
of a word is wrong, take the time to write a line or two
and comment. Your fellow poets will thank you!
.

Hi Mark, thanks for visiting and commenting. Your praise always encourages me to continue, as the muses have been away for a long time.
I think maybe "poltroon" is the word you mean. It's "cowardly".
Looking forward to your next visit, best wishes, Gracy

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"My soul is painted like the wings of butterflies; fairy tales of yesterday will grow but never die, I can fly, my friends.” – Freddie Mercury

author comment

Thank you Ray. Always encourages me to continue when I get some praise.
Gracy

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"My soul is painted like the wings of butterflies; fairy tales of yesterday will grow but never die, I can fly, my friends.” – Freddie Mercury

author comment

Looking forward to your comments, Geez. As you know, I've been away for a long time due to no inspiration. I think maybe it's returned, at least I hope so. As usual, I always thank my sweet mother in my prayers, because she read to me in English when I was still in the cradle.
Gracy

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"My soul is painted like the wings of butterflies; fairy tales of yesterday will grow but never die, I can fly, my friends.” – Freddie Mercury

author comment

You're wordy woman you are, Gracy !
This is just great, well done luv !!

Obi.

Hi Obi, yes, sometimes I think I use too many words. I'm glad you like it. Do you live in Britain? Because my parents were British but I live in Argentina. Oh, I'll go to your profile.
Thanks so much for commenting.

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"My soul is painted like the wings of butterflies; fairy tales of yesterday will grow but never die, I can fly, my friends.” – Freddie Mercury

author comment

writing and poetry in general, is that we can suspend time and write it as we feel it. If the hurt or circumstance is large, no matter how long ago, it looms large and in the present. I read that in your lines: "He left yesterday." "Images of fallow roads, puncture solitude, then fade."
The images of 'Camelot' and the shine of garish light on the walls, seems to reflect
the overall mood. Well written and the picture is of dejection. A call for contentment. ~ Geez.
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Comments and critique are vital to this site!
Even if you just say: I liked this story or your spelling
of a word is wrong, take the time to write a line or two
and comment. Your fellow poets will thank you!
.

Thank you so much for your comments, Geez. Yes, it's about being abandoned, don't know why I came up with these thoughts. Must be memories from long ago, as so many of my family have died. It's all I can think of.
I'm glad you think it's well written. I hope my muse continues to help me. And bring on contentment!

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"My soul is painted like the wings of butterflies; fairy tales of yesterday will grow but never die, I can fly, my friends.” – Freddie Mercury

author comment
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