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Portals of the Mind (October contest)

From the lookout of your attic
you view sleepy autumnal afternoons.
Sky and clouds have soft orange tints.
Gracefully, you embroider with golden threads
on silk cushions.
Farewell to the forgotten doorway,
the sombre faraway lanes.
A mirror reflects the same scene
in the interior of your chamber.

Nostalgia, presentiments of a discordant world
Quicken your heart.
Companion of my sadest hours,
you’re no longer there.
Your tombstone was bare
beneath stark pine trees
Abandoned in the common ossuary
nobody remembers you.
You closed the door for the last time
And I cannot visit you.

Review Request (Intensity): 
I appreciate moderate constructive criticism
Review Request (Direction): 
Is the internal logic consistent?
Editing stage: 
Content level: 
Not Explicit Content

Comments

my dear gracy, your first stanza was absolutely stunning throughout, the imagery was really easy to imagine, your second stanza also absolutely stunning, but made me really desperately sad, but oh so powerful. Which means the job as an accumplished poetess has been a success. another winning poem. your title is truly wonderful.
good luck my dear friend.

Thank you...Teddy

Dear Teddy, you're always so appreciative, thanks so much. I had trouble putting this poem together because I translated it from the Spanish version I had filed away. I suddenly remembered I had it published long ago and thought it would do for the contest.
Anyway, it's always heartenning when you visit, thanks for that. We had a power outage and it's gotten late. I'll return, for now all the best, 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

A sad but beautiful thing of memory.

I would use the words [you are] rather than [you're] no longer there
Makes it feel smoother to me.

Your tombstone [is] bare?
All-in-all, a golden afternoon of reminiscence. Very nice! ~ Geez.
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Our Chatroom is open 24/7 Feel free to use it for
keeping in touch We have poets around the world and it is fun
to have real-time conversations with those that are up
all night or on the other side of the world.
.

Hi Geez, thanks for commenting, it's always a pleasure when you visit. Good idea, I'll fix that, as you suggest. I'm glad you like it; as I said above, I translated from the Spanish version that was published long ago in a leading Buenos Aires newspaper. They don't have a poetry section any longer. With a longish power outage, it's gotten late. Will pop back soon.
All the best, 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

meets the competition parameters perfectly Gracy. Wonderful to read and follow. Never mind the power outage ~ the power is in the poem.

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Critique is a compliment
Kind regards, Alan
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Why, thank you, Alan. What a compliment. I'm glad it meets the parameters.
It's always a pleasure when you visit, 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
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