A SONNET TO LOVE'S PASSING
Posted: Mon Oct 04, 2021 9:29 am
A SONNET TO LOVE'S PASSING ... Maureen Clifford © The #ScribblyBarkPoet
Some say that love is never sick or dead,
claiming that from itself love will not turn,
some claim that love itself is never shed
until death calls, stealing, quiet, taciturn.
For true love is, seems a durable fire
that unrequited still holds embers glow
in hope that one day they will fan to flames.
Perhaps they will - but who alas will know.
For now, long past the fervent flush of youth
with eyes now dimmed and gait feeble and slow,
I still at night recall your tender touch,
your arms around me - ere you had to go.
Some say that love is never dead or old
but you are gone - my heart can't be consoled
Some say that love is never sick or dead,
claiming that from itself love will not turn,
some claim that love itself is never shed
until death calls, stealing, quiet, taciturn.
For true love is, seems a durable fire
that unrequited still holds embers glow
in hope that one day they will fan to flames.
Perhaps they will - but who alas will know.
For now, long past the fervent flush of youth
with eyes now dimmed and gait feeble and slow,
I still at night recall your tender touch,
your arms around me - ere you had to go.
Some say that love is never dead or old
but you are gone - my heart can't be consoled