Monday, December 27, 2010

Gloria

Sudden overwhelming feeling and collapse
Like another Sunday crossword covered nap
The swirling hue in the cupboards
Beckoning me onward
Still I can't quite seem to fathom what I've grasped

It's just a trick of the light
I'm told
There's nothing there that wasn't where it was;
Or where I left it
Just another thing that comes with getting old

Sepia painted twilights in repose
Unanswered letters spoken is softened prose
The world keeps dimmer
Despite the brilliant glimmer
That hung upon the garden where she rose.

4 comments:

Anon. said...

Absolutely love this.

xo

Pearl said...

Sweet and poignant.

Pearl

W.B. said...

You have such an imaginative writing style, and pour so much heart into it.

This is another great piece written by you. Excellent job!

:D

Pat Tillett said...

Sepia painted twilights in repose...

One of those lines I wish I'd thought of! Love the poem! You are experimenting I see...

The last stanza of this poem is amazing and could stand on it's own. I'm not always a fan of rhyming, sometimes when people do it, it seems "forced." This is beautiful, flowing, and easy to read. LOVE it...