The Sunday Scribblings prompt is "Poverty". Perhaps the saddest poverty is poverty of hope.THIS YEAR... (villanelle)
as spring comes tenderly
sun beads the silver threads of rain
too frail for weight of memory.
The scent of loam and hum of bee
drift faintly to her once again
this year as spring comes tenderly.
This is the year she will not see
the blossoms bud and bloom and wane
too frail for weight of memory.
She thinks she once was young and free
not bound to bed in which she’s lain
this year as spring comes tenderly.
New grasses’ slim fragility
mirrors her failing pulse and vein
too frail for weight of memory.
Ban hope, ban song, ban flowering tree!
Remembering brings too much pain
this year as spring comes tenderly
too frail for weight of memory.
22 comments:
Poverty of hope, this is grim. Any fate would be better than that.
this great, granny. we can not live without hopes..
this put a lump in my throat and a sadness in my heart... so very well written!
...rob
Poignant and beautiful. Hope is so important.
I like the contreast between the beauty of nature being reborn and the knowledge of death.
You did a gread job with the repetitions, too! Each one feels fresh with subtle meaning shifts.
I feel the sadness here.
Fine poetry!
"sun beads the silver threads of rain"
One wonderful phrase!
Love the villanelle..
For richer and/or poorer
Your poety is always so beautiful. This one touched me deeply; my aunt is in this situation. She laments never seeing the spring again but she, a devout Catholic, rests secure in her belief in an afterlife. I suppose each of us has our own means of coping with the inevidable final curtain.
there's an underlying sadness here.. outside spring is blooming but inside.. there is no hope. poverty of hope is indeed a lonely place to be.
this was so lovingly written,, so sad,,, yet in its own way full of a life well lived.....
What clear images this brings. I want to cry!
What a moving Villanelle Phyllis. "Sun beads the silver threads of rain" was beautiful. It hit very close to home as I drag this withering body behind my young mind.
Have a joyous and healthy new year. HUG
I did a Triolet (shorter Villanelle), but I should have done the Villanelle.
Granny, my grandmother has been really down lately so this is quite meaningful. I hope both you and her can greet Spring with all the joy there is :)
The ache in this one hit hard, especially in the first line of your final stanza, "Ban hope, ban song, ban flowering tree!" Lots of tender feeling here, beautifully written.
We will, at times, find ourselves through illness, aging or loss of hope, "too frail for weight of memory".
Thank you for sharing Villanelle.
Beautiful writing here. That's always been true of your writing though. Happy 09 to you. Cheers.
Lovely writing! Inevitable events of time need the seed of hope. Strong piece.
Hope springs eternal in the human breast
Man never is, but always
to be blest
The soul, uneasy and confined from home
Rests and expatiates in a life to come
Alexander Pope 1733
The lament here encourages me to hope for happiness......
I worked for an older lady the last couple years of high school, (in the 80s). She was always interesting to talk to, having experienced things that I never would (serving in a war as a nurse), yet she understood me as a teenager in love. When I eloped she was the only one who truly knew why we did what we did.
Eventually her memory failed. I remember going to visit her. She spoke of things I couldn't see, her memory too frail for weight of memory...
So nicely done, my friend. I've had days of calling aban on beauty. . .thanks for the reminder of living while we can.
Hope your holidays were wonderful!!
Ah so sad! It is all part of our journey through life to reach this point, though I guess I can say that all the more easily because I am not there yet.I worked in a nursing home/hospital for many years and it is so sad when people get to this stage, I often used to think what if we had a switch that we could turn off when we decided that enough was enough. Then I would think, life is too precious.
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