Wednesday, January 15, 2014

Gone



knuckles rubbed bloody and raw 
he fashioned a coffin 

resting place built for an angel
carved from the wood of a yew

his grief rose from a place of deep blackness
unspeakable pain her bequest

blue moon, bright stars guide him 
over moors and miles of heather

to the faraway place she loved best 
where candles softly shimmer  

and murmurous whispers 
shatter the silence of night

13 comments:

  1. "over moors and miles of heather" I've always been fascinated with novels that take place here… Just google "moors and heather" and it takes your breath away. (actually, I just saved an image to be my screen saver :) I love this poem - very sadly romantic.

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  2. sadness all over....great use of the prompt words...

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  3. A great love song, albeit washed with so many purples and blacks--a ncoturne of how far loss can take a lover into the farthest realms of soul. Very nicely done.

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  4. quite the striking tale...i can imagine his grief on that journey to take her home to the place he loved...imagine the feelings as you made her coffin as well....

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  5. A resting place for the angles ~ I like the leading back to the faraway places she loved best ~ Good one Helen ~

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  6. This is such an imaginative take on the original prompt - the idea of a husband fashioning a coffin for his wife..I found it very moving to read.

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  7. Your opening lines…I imagine an old man, hard at work, carving that coffin for his one true love, his tears lining the inside.

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  8. There is a haunting beauty to this...

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  9. a very nice amalgamation of the objects of muse

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  10. also speaks to me of Hardy (following Margaret), or the same landscape sung of in The Long Black Veil ~

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  11. oh how lovely...and sweet and sadly romantic

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  12. this is beautiful and sad and filled with his love! wonderful take on the prompt, Helen!

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