Her Hope
Deprived of sleep, she lays awake
In a bed, cold and still,
Filled with the fear her heart will break
Before her fragile will.
But there is a hope that keeps her brave…
Her husband’s face is turned away,
In spirit and in truth.
No longer does his touch convey
The love they shared in youth.
But there is a hope that keeps her brave…
She watches his back gently rise,
And feels the more forlorn.
Silent tears crawl from her eyes
For the child never born.
But there is a hope that keeps her brave…
His words never attribute blame,
But silence loudly speaks.
With downcast eyes, she hides her shame—
The pain her heart now keeps.
But there is a hope that keeps her brave…
She, by her body, was betrayed—
Her vessel, barren, cursed.
A private torment on display,
A loneliness made worse.
But still, there is a hope that keeps her brave…
She strokes, gently, her husband’s brow,
And feels his sleeping smile.
She loves this man beyond compare,
But cannot bear his child.
And so she pleads, with tears and sighs,
To cold and empty, moon-filled skies,
That love will not prove their marriage a tomb…
And it is that hope that keeps her brave.
Forgotten
As lips—warm, soft, of feather’s weight—when laid
Upon the sleeping cheek of a lover,
So gentle the night breeze as now passes…
A first lover’s sighs never forgotten.
Now weeps a sad avian melody;
Despairs the night bird of things forgotten.
Now hear I those whispers softly spoken
By honest voices thought lost, forgotten.
All echoes beyond this vault forbidden—
Cherish now the Brief—so soon forgotten.
Here, behind Twilight’s tenebrous curtain,
The day—its bedlam—becomes forgotten.
Awakens now: doubts of things once certain…
Patient fears not yet to be forgotten.
Gathering cold fire from the moon, shed tears
Shimmer like quicksilver upon my cheeks…
…Will you keep their memory at your breast,
Or is theirs a fate to be forgotten?
I Remember
I remember hair that smelled of storm clouds,
Primal forests cleansed and ever reborn.
Such was the fragrance she had worn.
…I remember storm clouds.
I remember eyes of flickering flames—
Twin candles left to burn by dark windows.
Such light danced among her shadows.
…I remember the flames.
I remember teardrops upon the fire,
Tears shed for tears shed which were burned away,
Yet memories of each still stay.
…I remember teardrops.
I remember her—as a song, a laugh,
The whisper heard in moments most quiet—
The echo in places silent.
…I remember her laugh.
I remember her—as a breath, a touch,
The only softness which I cared to know—
That light with which my blood did flow.
…I remember her touch.
I remember her then…missing her now—
That beauty, that force so dearly adored—
She with whom my future was stored.
…I remember it all
…And will never forget.
