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Sorrow

Submitted by Gracy on Tue, 2020-03-31 11:16

Sorrow

When you were yet a child, so dear to me,
tummy flat upon the rug, finger on a book
to read the lines, your lips a babbling brook,
my heart went out to you, my busy bumble-bee.

I loved those hours, so full of joyous play,
loved your curly hair, the sturdy limbs
so quick your favourite oak to climb;
better times there never were, nor gladder days.

Now I sit beside your arms upon the quilt,
so motionless, their lifeline out of symmetry,
and cannot grasp the ingrate chronology,
must hide my face awhile, with tears of guilt.

Yet still I marvel at the gallant spirit in you,
understand battles in those dimming eyes
and guess your nameless sorrow, the solitude,
youth’s body wasted frail his soul to heaven rise.

Review Request (Intensity): 
I appreciate moderate constructive criticism
Review Request (Direction): 
What did you think of my title?
How was my language use?
What did you think of the rhythm or pattern or pacing?
How does this theme appeal to you?
How was the beginning/ending of the poem?
Is the internal logic consistent?
Last few words: 
Please comment and crit, I always do and expect the same. Thanks to all.
Editing stage: 
Editing - rough draft

Comments

Gracy

Tue, 2020-03-31 15:11

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Thank you so much, Jerry. But I don't mind crits, I wish to honor my young son with the best poetry I can compose. Bless you all!

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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

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Geezer

Wed, 2020-04-01 08:12

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comes through so clearly. I have never felt the pain that I know a parent must feel at the passing of a child; and I hope that I never will. I do have one crit. and that is that although the words look the same, they do not sound the same: limbs and climb.
~ Geezer.
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c lynn brooks

Wed, 2020-04-01 22:08

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I am left without words. You have immortalized your child with your words

Chrys

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Gracy

Thu, 2020-04-02 10:34

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Hi Lynn, thank you for your kind comment. I don't wish anybody to have a son with ALS. It's a horrible decease and science has not found a cure, the headlines are all about corona, which would surely be fatal with ALS. They would probably not be given the oxigen and allowed to die along with many elderly people.

Do comment and acknowledge all poet's works. Thank you.

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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

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Gracy

Thu, 2020-04-02 10:24

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Why thanks, Mark. I'm glad to be here. You're all so helpful. Sorry it made you sad. Patrick's memory is with me always, especially on St. Patrick's Day, birthday and anniversary. He died of ALS aged 29. My therapy was and is, to write poetry about him. Tx for your kind comments.

Do comment and acknowledge all poet's works. Thank you.

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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

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Gracy

Thu, 2020-04-02 10:29

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Thank you, Gee. I realize that those words don't rhyme. Have you any suggestions?
I lost 2 sons, the other, Robert, was only 21 years old. He had schizophrenia and died in an accident. Both sons are forever in my heart, they live there, along with my second husband, Carlos, who died 6 years ago after having dementia for 15 years. I've written poems about all of them. I'll be posting them soon.
Thanks for your great comments.

Do comment and acknowledge all poet's works. Thank you.

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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

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Geezer

Fri, 2020-04-03 09:06

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You may have to change a couple of lines a little but it usually can be fixed without changing the meaning of the story.
How about, [and your laughing lines] the near rhyme might be good enough? The ess isn't that noticeable, you just need the main sound which would be the long i and the n to make it. ~ Geez.
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There is value to commenting and critique, tell us how you feel about our work.
This must be the place, 'cause there ain't no place like this place anywhere near this place.

Gracy

Tue, 2020-05-05 21:54

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Hi Geez and I apologize for taking so long to thank you. Yes, I agree with you, will make the changes. Appreciated.

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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

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Gracy

Tue, 2020-05-05 22:03

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Thank you, Teddy, for your consoling comments. ALS is a cruel disease that kills about 3 in 100.000 every year, thereabouts. Young as well as old. Doesn't make headlines because it's not contagious, but there still isn't a cure for it. My son's studies were interrupted at age 23, when he was studying in Salamanca, Spain. We had to bring him home to Buenos Aires and I nursed him, with assistance, during 6 years. Fortunately, he died in his sleep, didn't have any suffocation as the docs predicted.
I'm glad you sense the pain, it's quite so. Your words are much appreciated.

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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

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