Sunday, February 12, 2012

REST











The Sunday Scribblings prompt is REST


Sometimes REST can be forced upon one by circumstances such as illness or age:
THIS YEAR  a villanelle
This year 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 in 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.

9 comments:

oldegg said...

Well this a real weepy this week! I rely a lot on memory and do not look forward to the time when I am too frail for the weight of it. A really beautiful but sad post.

Altonian said...

A wonderful use of pointed repetition, in a poem of poignant sadness. Quite, quite beautiful.

Cyn Bagley said...

I enjoyed your poem - Cyn

Cyn Bagley said...

I thought that I'd like to mention that this reminded me of when I was in the hospital in 2003. It tells the same story of loss -

Cyn

Belva Rae Staples said...

This is sad with a touch of sweetness. I suppose these things are facing us all at some point, but I'm going to dodge it as long as possible!

jaerose said...

Beautiful..the repetition felt like the effort of breath when we get tired..and old inside..and yet there was a certain defiance in the last verse..that that moment was good..(I hope)..Jae

Archna Sharma said...

I think that the bounty of spring feels the same pain. There is pain when the blossoms bud, pain in staying in full bloom, and malady and agony as it wanes. And some believe that we will spring up again and again just as every flowering tree.

Maggie May said...

This is a beautiful, but sad poem.
The mind can be still young and active, but we are sometimes trapped in bodies that let us down.
Maggie X

Nuts in May

Mad Kane said...

Poignantly beautiful.

Madeleine Begun Kane