Tag: loss

When

When


She longed for the halcyon days
When he would drape her in love
When the sun would smile on them
Kissing their skin
When the birds would sing their song
and the flowers dance
When they would find shade
under the Royal Poinciana
and watch the parade
of soldiers marching
 
She longed for the halcyon days
before he left her
alone and bereft
When she thought she could
cry no more tears
When her heart became empty
Fragile and brittle as bone
A woman broken
From the loss of someone
Taken from this life too soon
 
She longed for the halcyon days
Before the war
The one nobody understood 
Why they were even there
So long ago now
But time did not heal her wounds
She still ached for him
and what might have been
A life lost forever 
A love that still endures

 
Christine Bolton - Poetry for Healing ©

Word Prompts:

Royal

Parade

Halcyon

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Mermaid

Mermaid

She had lived in these waters
Where she would call to him
He was curious and came willingly
And together they would swim

She took him to the ocean floor
And they would pick up starfish
Marveling at their million legs
And on each one make a wish

He learned to ride the dolphins
While she swam alongside
They would lie on the rocks
With each other, preoccupied

As they sat in the sun
He would braid her hair
He had fallen deeply in love
And did not want to share

One day he had to go away
And thought his heart might break
She promised him she would stay
But he feared he’d lose her in his wake

He constructed an image of her
And placed it on the rocks
So she would remember where to come
He would return at the spring equinox

She came back every day
Waiting for her love
She would laugh at the statue
And look up above

The sun had changed its position
But he had never returned
She became tired of waiting
This mermaid had been spurned

She swam far away from there
And did never return
When he finally reappeared
All that was left
was the monument so taciturn

 

Christine Bolton – Poetry for Healing ©

In response to Hélène Vaillant’s What Do You See? – Photo Prompt

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When Your Number Is Up

When Your Number Is Up

She looked to the mountains
With the colors of red and gold
Like her brazen hair
A Celtic look strong and bold
Her husband a seaman
sailing the oceans seven
Like his father before him
a cabin boy at age eleven

Used to her loneliness
she cared for the croft
Sheep to be fed
and hay in the loft
Her feelings repressed
Who would hear her voice
The bairns too young
she didn’t have a choice

The small cottage
never dingy or unclean
A spotless home
A place that was serene
This day her thoughts
were indulgent and sublime
But they were ephemeral
Being in the world of maritime

A storm picking up
Dark clouds gathering
She rounded up the young ones
as the shutters began clattering
Just another day
This woman of resilience
Keeping home fires burning
Until her husband’s deliverance

Marking the calendar
Until his return on leave
Nine more days
Of wool to weave
One week and two days
Until he is home safe and sound
Sadly she did not know
That he had already drowned

 

Christine Bolton – Poetry for Healing ©

Word Prompts:

Repress

Dingy

Ephermeral

Sublime

OctPoWriMo – Poem a Day #29 – By the Numbers

Photo by Sean McGee on Unsplash

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Broken Dreams

Broken Dreams

Once upon a time
when you were my lover
we used to live in our world
of magical fantasy with
new experiences to discover

Fearless and free
We sailed the seven seas
Swimming in oceans
Enduring blizzards
And climbing trees

Our dreams were endless
and energy unbounded
A magical pair
Living in enchantment
Any negativity unfounded

Was it then prophetic
that you went away?
You became my former lover
Our lives modified
No longer here to stay

I fascinated you no longer
The spell was broken
In a New York minute
My hopes and wishes dashed
Another word never spoken

 

Christine Bolton – Poetry for Healing

Word Promp[ts:

Prophetic

Former

Blizzard

Modify

OctProWriMo – Poem a Day #18 – Once Upon a Time

 

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Pound of Flesh

Pound of Flesh

Revenge was apparent
after she had been violated
He had taken what was hers
Her body abused and desecrated

There was an air of desperation
She wanted justice served
Eventually it came and
he got what he deserved

Finally what had been craved
Was now hers to feast
But that plump, pound of flesh
Was not as filling, not in the least

She could not fathom why
Retribution was not hers
Hibernation became routine
The outside world now a blur

 

Christine Bolton – Poetry for Healing ©

Word Prompts

Apparent

Plump

Fathom

Routine

Hibernate

OctPoWriMo – Poem a Day – October #8 – Madness

Photo by Stephany Lorena on Unsplash

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Lady of the Lake – Poem of the Month – November 2018

Lady of the Lake

The moon had risen in the black sky
Giving an ethereal luminescence
Silver shimmering ripples on the lake
Magical in its quivering quintessence

The place of myths and legends
Mystery suspended in the cool night air
A white vision stands at water’s edge
A commanding presence with her long hair

The Lady of the Lake a mourning bride
of a soldier murdered by his men
Distraught she threw herself to her death
Forever trapped to roam over and again

Wandering the walls of the Charles Fort
A familiar sight of agonized plight
Grief-stricken for her dead groom
She walks the darkened streets at night

Her trapped spirit  forever nocturnal
Appearing to those who can see
The Lady of the Lake is still mourning
Her loss forever burned into history

 

Christine Bolton – Poetry for Healing ©

 

OctPoWriMo – A Poem a Day – October #7

Photo by Luke Marshall on Unsplash

Prompted by a Tragic Irish Ghost Story The White Lady of Kinsale

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Lover’s Legacy

Lover’s Legacy

I bury my face in your shirt
Smelling your cologne
Still lingering on the fabric
Laundered clean since then
Yet you are there touching my senses
The ritual almost tantric

Coffee brewing in the pot
Kitchen filled with a glorious aroma
Morning smells familiar of you
Fresh baked bread and soft butter
Roses picked fresh from the garden
Sweet and fragrant still covered in dew

If love had a scent
It would bear your name
Your essence is omnipresent
Each room I wander into
Provoking memories of you
But you are now absent

As always lost in my reverie
Dreaming of what we once had
and wondering why it went wrong
Did I become invisible by loving you
And you could no longer see me
Or did you never quite belong

Christine Bolton – Poetry for Healing ©

In response to Gina’s Challenge – Comfort Smell – at D’Verse Poets

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Departed

Departed

I harvest the remnants
of our life once complete
Limiting the time I spend
Reminiscing
As my heart now deplete

My eyes look around
the spartan room
Your things gone
and furniture removed
A feeling of empty gloom

My eyes drawn to the window
Afternoon sun bathing the glade
In a matinee performance
of fantastic color and light
A silent serenade

Missing you, still loving you
Feeling you here
Where life used to exemplify
our love and intimacy
Now fated to disappear

Christine Bolton – Poetry for Healing ©

Word Prompts:

Harvest

Spartan

Glade

Limit

Exemplify

OctPoWriMo – October Poem a day

Photo by Danielle MacInnes on Unsplash

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Evil Woman

Evil Woman

You scarred him for life
Midwife to the devil
So full of jealousy
You egotistical witch
Taking the gift of motherhood
To an unacceptable level

Poor child yearning for approval
Just wishing for the love of his mother
Instead he gets a competitor
A green-eyed monster
Craving the attention meant for him
As if she were his wicked stepmother

A pathological narcissist
Always cruel and wicked
With only love for herself
Doing damage for a lifetime
He was just an innocent boy
Now a man afflicted

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Gone

Gone

No more black and white
Just shadows of grey
Direction is no longer clear
Since you went away

Numerous times
I question why
You left so suddenly
But never a reply

A ghost like presence
Where you once were
Never again
To darken my door

Your essence everywhere
Woven into my life
Carrying it in my body
Twisting against the knife

Your voice lingering
In the empty room
Not answering my words
Nothing left to exhume

Bravado my new guise
Not wishing to show anguish
Reflexive responses
In my misery I languish

A sense of foreboding
You will never return
Life with you
I will have to unlearn

Christine Bolton – Poetry for Healing ©

Word Prompts:

Numerous

Bravado

Reflex

Photo by Anthony Tran on Unsplash

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