THE VISIT

We met in the later years of life,

Not in spring, when life is young & nature in bloom,

But when leaves were turning from golden to brown.

And nature wore her finest gown.

We gave lots of thoughts to what might have been,

Would I have been your only wife,

Or would you just have passed me by,

Without  a glance; ………….without me ever being seen?

In that other time, long past,

In younger days, when busy with your daily tasks,

With anticipation of what was to come,

And later years had not revealed the furrows of lifes twisting path.

Do you recall a shadow passing across your minds eye?

And, in awareness, as you turned, a soft touch upon your cheek,

Seemed that a butterfly, with gossamer wings

had  brushed your soul, while floating by.

Perchance, you will remember needing solitude & peace,

As life presented you with woes, not the solace that you seeked

                 And the  heavens were alive with mystery, and light,

But not the answers you so needed, appeared  in mind or sight

You thought a hand had touched your hair,

Just a whisper on the breeze,

But when you looked,….…………there was no one there.

Just the laughter of the leaves.

Think back, when walking on that distant shore,

And life was good in all it gave,

You lost your footing in the sand,

And

As you sank beneath the waves

Was lifted safe from Neptune’s door 

And,

Unnoticed,……….were  the footsteps left beside you on the floor.

My love enabled me to find you in your finest years,

You were not familiar & yet…I felt the bond, the closeness of the heart,

And moved to tears

               I wondered if you would remember in your later years,

And recall my visits through the mists of time,

This  gentle shadow walking by your side.

The future beckons, but is soon the past,

Can there be a present,

When time moves so fast?

Will we know our destiny, before gone too  far,

The meaning of life, from the Garden of Eden to the end of the world,

From the birth of a flower, to the death of a star,

The  beginning of time, to the end of time.

Ah;…………you know me now,

And, when winter comes, you won’t dismiss the brush upon your lips as the first fresh fall of snow,

It will be & has always been, the love of your life,

This girl who may have been your wife,

Watching & caring, from the wings,

Enjoying this love that makes our hearts sing,

Virginia Saunders October 2009

A long poem about  love , surviving through time. I got the idea from a film  about  an older  man  travelling through time  to visit his  love in her younger years, although this is told from  a  woman’s perspective.  She mentions  occasions when she has  been looking after him, unbeknown to him , keeping him safe, all through his past.

THE MISSING

   It was the best of times……………………….

Realisation of a feeling so deep,

Heart & mind racing

interrupted deep sleep,

Thoughts, words and endearments tumbling 

from lips

that just longed to touch & to kiss

this stranger, 

who’d appeared in my midst.

Yearning & longing & pain……so much pain,

For a love that was distant

That may never come again.

Bitter sweet dreams,  

Snatched words, racing hearts,

Constant thoughts of living apart.

Words explicit & emotional, 

A high, not known before.

A wave of erotic love together

on an imaginary romantic shore. 

Passion flaring like a red hot flame

Knowing………

Life would surely, never be the same again. 

Spring became summer,

Away in sunny climes

Still painful & pining…………surely not the best of times?

   It was the worst of times…………………….

Messages unanswered,

No time for a chat, 

Too much contact, no more time for all that.

No more love & endearments, 

Snatched words, racing hearts,

Just brisk notes of indifference,

A heart torn apart,

Left on the doorstep, not told to come in,

Disappeared, gone…………….in the beat of a wing.

No more music

No more laughs,

No more talking

When the daylight hours have passed,

No more Treasure, goodnight,

Sleep tight,

 no more…………..

Just a glimmer appears,

When the day turns to night, or loneliness touches your soul.

You think of this girl

 but it quickly turns cool,

Like frost on the window of hope

or 

ice on a deep sheltered pool.  

Your expression of missing is fleet,

It appears in your consciousness,

And in the space of your heartbeat

has disappeared……….. gone

All feeling extinguished

like the flame of a distant memory

or an old forgotton  song.

 It was pure while it lasted,

Never thought it would end,

Hard to go from a lover

 To, well,………. just a friend.

All trust has gone,

All faith swept aside, 

A deep yearning for something

swept away on the tide.

Please tell, how to mend a broken heart,

How to erase a memory, 

For I  know not where to start.

To forget all that has gone before,

Now you’ve finally closed that door.

This gentle shadow still walks by your side,

This girl who may have been your bride,

Still watching & caring from the wings,

Missing the love that made her heart sing.

Virginia Saunders June 2010

A  follow on from the last poem, when suddenly, it all turns sour,  and the  door closes on the relationship. A couple of very sad poems.

A SELECTION OF FOUR POEMS by HOLLY

A NIGHT IN THE BLITZ

My grand daughter, Holly, age 8, has a flair for poetry.They had a learning curve on WW2  at school, which encouraged Holly to write this poem. 

FLOWERS

                                     This was Holly's first poem, about nature and the garden 

MY EARTH

 Reading about the demise of the rain forests &  never to be had again, wild life, prompted this poem.  The declining values of  many people.

GOING HOME

A poem written for my mum’s funeral. She wanted me to put down all that she felt towards the end of her life, & she wanted it read out on that day.

OF NOTHING TO DREAM

"Of Nothing To Dream" a sad poem with joy at the end. I have never agreed with caged birds.  For a bird with  the ability to soar into the sky, it is a terrible life to be confined to a small wire cage. , with nothing to do all day, year in year out

REFLECTIONS

 A poem about betrayal & regret in love.  How you cant go back, and repair what has passed.

SIGHT

Our eyes are one of the most important things we have. Our window on the world &  also into our soul.

SPARKLES DAY OUT

"Sparkles Day Out! is about the labrador, next door, who we used to take for a walk. He did so enjoy his trips up the woods, as we also enjoyed taking him. He is a lovely dog,  very gentle, very overweight, but now, sadly, nearing the end of his life.   

THE BRIDGE

Who has not had upsetting differences with their children, at some time in their life. I was in despair at such a time, & then we made up. I wrote this poem, as a sign of relief, that all hope was not lost.

THE FISHERMAN

A more jovial light hearted poem, than my usual one’s.  Written in a different style,  when finished, it reminded me of  something  out of a Rupert annual.

THEN ALONG CAME HOLLY

Well, I have always loved animals, but suddenly, there was a new addition to the family, Holly. She was & is a lovely child, and I thought I would write about the change of direction in one’s mind, when a new being comes into your life. The comparisons when you get to thinking about the interaction you will have for a life time with this child, and the enjoyment & appreciation in her face.  

THE COTTAGE

I was on one of the forums, that I am a member of, & someone suggested, to whoever wanted to, writing a poem about this picture of an isolated cottage. So, here it is.

NIGHTHAWK

On going to an american airshow & seeing the stealth bomber, it was so amazing, it was what most people had gone to the show to see. As it took off, a quietness descended on the field. A truly amazing spectacle.

THE ULTIMATE SACRIFICE

Obviously a poem about the little russian dog, Laika., who was sent into space, never to come back alive.  Always a dog well remembered through the years,  an icon, a reminder of animals that have given up their lives for mankind,  in one way or another.

BUT WHAT IF?

"But What If?" is a poem about what we think the world is like when we are young. As we grow older, reality steps in & gradually all the magical places of dreams disappear, and we are left with reality. I like to think that it is hidden from us all, when we become adults, and there comes a time, when all is revealed to all of us, and hope  & faith is restored, and life is not as clean cut as we think..................

OF CHILDHOOD & FAIRIES

This poem takes me back to playing in the garden, when I was young, always looking for fairy signs & four leaf clovers, and perhaps a movement amongst the flower stems that could  certainly be a flower fairy which I was always reading about.
Going to bed & reading my fairy books under the covers, and being transported to another world, that I really wanted to see for myself.
To wear the beautiful delicate clothes of the tiny folk, a starlight crown sparkling on my head & tiny shoes made from  flowery things.....................

THE TRAVELLER

Well I was pleased with this one. I got the idea from a comic I had read many years ago.
 We had friends in Canada & they used to send us bundles of american comics a couple of times a year. They were very well received & I remember reading a Sci-Fi story about a time traveller, who amongst various times & places also travelled to the time of the crucifiction. 

LAST OF A KIND

I have  never liked  or agreed with caged animals, especially   ones who migrate  or cover lots of ground during their lives.   I do, however, understand when animals that are  faced with extinction  are cared for in captivity in order to preserve their breed.  It  is this that made me think of writing this poem, looking at it from both sides.

Poem card, Rabbits everywhere!

FRED RABBIT

 A true story about a rabbit that I heard was ill treated. He lived quite a long way away, but I kept thinking of his plight, and could not sleep at night.

So, I asked my sister in law, who lived next door, to ask the rabbit’s owners if they wanted him, and that I was willing to come up & get him.

They did not want him & so I hired a box & went on a long distance train, after work, to go get him. I had nowhere to put him, but I knew that could easily be sorted out, and was the least of the problems. Fred rabbit, became really attached to me. I would have him  running around in the garden & indoors, before I went to work.

He would sit with me in the garden & come when I called, he was in the bathroom , while I was having a bath & helped himself to a biscuit, when the lid of the tin was off. He repaid me a thousand times, with his company, until he became ill & he had to be put to sleep, a very bad time.
He is buried in the garden, amongst the flowers.