We who with songs beguile your pilgrimage / And swear that Beauty lives though lilies die, / We Poets of the proud old lineage / Who sing to find your hearts, we know not why ... (James Elroy Flecker)

21.2.18

Relics of a Shared Childhood


For the series, "Edges"
Her Voice 
Relics of a Shared Childhood


 You are my beautiful rose,
but your petals are windblown.
So much time has elapsed.

Outside, the waves billow and groan.
Hold fast to my heart, in this landscape
of sand and stone, I beg you.

We grope towards each other ... lose 
our grip. Do you suppose we shall never
overcome what we took in so deeply so young 
from our growth-place: our edged island?
Sharing this one at The Tuesday Platform for 7 March 2018 at"imaginary garden with real toads"



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15 comments:

  1. tonispencer7 March 2018 at 07:56

    This has such a lonely and beautiful tone - like the landscapte of sand and stone....questions we often ask ourselves when we get to be a certain age.

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  2. brudberg7 March 2018 at 08:28

    I can sense the emigrant in your words, to be together in an unknown place... what a challenge.

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  3. Rommy7 March 2018 at 09:05

    The imagery of an edged island is very intriguing. It makes me wonder if those edges are sharpened to protect something dear.

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  4. Thotpurge7 March 2018 at 12:48

    edged island... that is an intriguing image that poses so many questions!

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    Replies
    1. Rosemary Nissen-Wade7 March 2018 at 16:55

      Although this "voice" is not mine, I did grow up on an island. They do have edges, being surrounded by water, and the inhabitants are always somewhat conscious of that.

      Delete
  5. Magaly Guerrero7 March 2018 at 13:37

    That lost grip tells so many tales...

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  6. Jim7 March 2018 at 16:40

    Intense childhood play we will remember long. My favorite is when it was time for me to be chased my dog took offence and bit my cousin.
    A fun read, Rosemary.
    ..

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  7. Vivian Zems7 March 2018 at 23:43

    Comfort in this landscape of sand and stone.... you wove this beautifully.

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  8. Gillena Cox8 March 2018 at 01:45

    In the "windblown" petals of Verse 1, i am reading your aging. In the loss of "grip" in Verse 3, i am sensing a dreamlike encounter with the one you loved. And in Verse 2, so some much longing, for what you had with your loved one. WOW!!! this is so short and sweet and romantic and sad all at the same time

    much love...

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  9. Margaret8 March 2018 at 12:28

    The distinct imprint of a childhood home or place or friendship... lovely

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  10. Old Egg8 March 2018 at 12:37

    I read this couple of times before I decided to comment. This was because it descibes Australia so well as we trash this unique landmass for profit. This island continent is rich for us but is subject to such abuse that we are slowly destroying it and the seas around us.

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    Replies
    1. Rosemary Nissen-Wade8 March 2018 at 15:05

      Everything you say is very true, and the destruction horrifies me too. In this poem, though, I had in mind a smaller island, such as Tassie.

      Delete
  11. MNL (cactus haiku)8 March 2018 at 20:33

    very lovely, I feel a young love that has come again full circle in an aged lover, remembering and holding on.

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