Dear Poets: May I Leave A Comment? Thank You.
To: Sir William C. Williams (on The Descent)
Descent is the moon that wanes beneath darkness
Clouds, gray nights of cold
Like a love unrequited
Like tales untold
Like throes hiding under shadows
Like dreams unrealized burrow
Etched is truth, there lies abyss
Lonely lilacs surrender peace.
To Mr. R. Eberhart (on Grave Piece)
Death nigh unto life, lay questions of tomorrow
Four doves in the grave, blight then, now sorrow
O crystal Tear, of all be near, I shall not fear, I shall not fear!
To: Mr. W.H. Auden (on Perhaps)
Your “barren virtuous marriage of stone and water”
Is a ring in my heart where name and image meet.
You paint a soothing ocean in the summer
Black stones glittering gold cobwebs ponder
Underneath stones sparkling ripples of kiss
My lips supple - still, pure pink for your love
Lithe for your flesh; be for you, Dear love.
To: Sir Dylan Thomas (on After the Funeral)
Could there be a love like Michael Furey’s love?
Could Ann Jones be the reality of Gretta?
What other thoughts tie Sir James with you?
And me, and the others? Perhaps love, that of Auden.
Scrubbed and sour humble hands of old Anne
Clench monuments for the boys shedding dry leaves
And I, now a mother, a womb of oceans
My naked chest for the world
And after all the lovers gone
Vigor and bloom on window sills
Everything fades from a love, all transient like grass
Only funerals in choir of angels
Only God’s love eternally lasts
And for my lover, my lover, my lover
Haul me up your arms when in death;
Nigh your heart, nigh your breath,
In peace, cast away my fear
To Father God, I shall forever rest.
Did I make sense, dear great poets?
Thank you for the poems.
God bless the poets!
rosalinda flores martinez
on iwrotefiction
/also on poemhunter.com
To: Sir William C. Williams (on The Descent)
Descent is the moon that wanes beneath darkness
Clouds, gray nights of cold
Like a love unrequited
Like tales untold
Like throes hiding under shadows
Like dreams unrealized burrow
Etched is truth, there lies abyss
Lonely lilacs surrender peace.
To Mr. R. Eberhart (on Grave Piece)
Death nigh unto life, lay questions of tomorrow
Four doves in the grave, blight then, now sorrow
O crystal Tear, of all be near, I shall not fear, I shall not fear!
To: Mr. W.H. Auden (on Perhaps)
Your “barren virtuous marriage of stone and water”
Is a ring in my heart where name and image meet.
You paint a soothing ocean in the summer
Black stones glittering gold cobwebs ponder
Underneath stones sparkling ripples of kiss
My lips supple - still, pure pink for your love
Lithe for your flesh; be for you, Dear love.
To: Sir Dylan Thomas (on After the Funeral)
Could there be a love like Michael Furey’s love?
Could Ann Jones be the reality of Gretta?
What other thoughts tie Sir James with you?
And me, and the others? Perhaps love, that of Auden.
Scrubbed and sour humble hands of old Anne
Clench monuments for the boys shedding dry leaves
And I, now a mother, a womb of oceans
My naked chest for the world
And after all the lovers gone
Vigor and bloom on window sills
Everything fades from a love, all transient like grass
Only funerals in choir of angels
Only God’s love eternally lasts
And for my lover, my lover, my lover
Haul me up your arms when in death;
Nigh your heart, nigh your breath,
In peace, cast away my fear
To Father God, I shall forever rest.
Did I make sense, dear great poets?
Thank you for the poems.
God bless the poets!
rosalinda flores martinez
on iwrotefiction
/also on poemhunter.com
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