In Memoriam
With you I always saw the potted palms
Marble floors and Chinese jardinieres
Polished ancient oak and well-worn arms
Of venerable tufted leather chairs.
Curious how your face evoked the glow
Of firelight and candles in old brass!
When I knew you, the wine had ceased to flow,
And so I have no love for Irish glass.
But crewel and damask –– spices from the East ––
Herbal tea and pottery Quimper
Feed my sorrow, as my my eyes do feast
On relics left from life within your care.
O, dearest, gentle one, you were the Past ––
A waking dream –– a joy that could not last.
FreeThinke
A beautiful tribute. To your mother?
ReplyDeleteA teacher and mentor who becama a very dear and treasured friend
DeleteWonderful linguistic artistry, FreeThinke! Your employment of imagery and things of old brought from the East evokes deep emotion.
ReplyDeleteIt cheers me to see you back at the blogs and in rude health.
Be well, friend!
Thank you so much for those very kind words. They are much appreciate.
DeleteHere's to old friends...!
ReplyDeleteYes –– and newer ones too. ;-)
DeleteLife DOES go on, despite grief and setbacks –– until the day it DOESN'T.
...and mentors.
ReplyDeleteESPECIALLY mentors, Thersites.
DeleteThose who teach us and encourage us to learn things of beauty and enduring value are the Pearls of Great Price.
I never lost as much but twice
ReplyDeleteAnd tha was in the sod.
Twice have i stood a beggar
before the door of God.
Angels twice descending
reimbursed my store
Burglar, Banker –– Father!
I am poor once more.
Emily Dickinson (1830-1886)