Each wove a finely textured web of silence,
he always walked a measured stride ahead,
yet slightly stooped,while courteous, leaning over,
to catch the sense of whispered things she said.
Immensely vacuumed rooms saw many journeys,
tea grew cold beside a burning hearth.
The rain of English weather fell between them,
summer of their youth etched on each heart.
Autumn leaves were burnished red and golden,
a cold key turned to lock his study room.
No one dusted deep in the interior,
across the floor a library was strewn.
Sad to say it seems now they have parted,
her to a lover further down the mews.
Obituaries will have to be re-written,
and placed between theatrical reviews.
19 Apr 06
Rated 9.5 (8.8) by 2 users.
Active (2): 9, 10
Inactive (5): 8, 8, 9, 9, 9
(define the words in this poem)
(783 more poems by this author)
(1 user considers this poem a favorite)
Add A Comment:
is Opal your wife?
No! I'm just married to her
Larry otherwise engaged Lark
um..... so,you 're not her husband,
Quite a nice poem. It's very evocative without being really narrative, which I like very much, and leaves me with a slightly lonely, quiet feeling, which is appropriate.
My only critical comments would be a couple spelling errors:
L3: curteous = courteous
L5: vaccumed = vacuumed
and I'm not sure about the rhyme between "hearth" and "heart". Possibly it's a clean rhyme in your pronunciation, but it makes me stumble a bit in the otherwise clean rhyme scheme. Perhaps you could think about that a bit. Thanks for sharing.
We drink cold tea together.
I will act on your excellent spots. Sorry about the spelling,its one of my many weak points
We've all got something like that. Well done again, Larry.
Ooh.. very good and clever stuff.
i smell pussywillow
You are too kind.I should use a spell check but i'm so bone idle.
Glad you liked it thanks for the positive comment.
The rhythm is excellent - and I think the rhyme is used well enough to be a plus - the last stanza I love.
(Dear reader, I didn't marry him)
It was super glue kept us together
Larry sticky fingers lark
this is what happens when a fool can't tell that someone else is logged in :)
This is what happens when in the words of the immortal Elvis "A fool such as i" is allowed access to anything more complex than a light bulb switch.
Larry fizz band total darkness Kark
How did I miss this? Oh, wait, I remember what was going on in my life last April...
This is just so perfect, Larry. (Did you mean to have an extra space in line 10?)
Ohh, this is... really poignant, if I can use that word without sounding like an idiot.
I love L15 and 16. It reminds me of a Carol Ann Duffy piece- War Photographer, with the lines
A hundred agonies in black-and-white
from which his editor will pick out five or six
for Sunday's supplement. The reader's eyeballs prick
with tears between bath and pre-lunch beers.
From aeroplane he stares impassively at where
he earns a living and they do not care.