Tenth June Blog

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Tenth June Blog.

Just enough time to slot in another June blog.

Lost Emotion.

When Love has forsaken
A world full of woe,
It flies like the wind,
Travelling slow.
When women and men
See no point to their lives,
Just miserable husbands,
Cantakeous wives.
Feelings immortal
Have long passed them by,
They go through the motions,
They grumble and sigh.
Where is the passion
That once nicely flowed,
Where is the love,
Where did it go?
Love resurrection,
What’s needed the most,
A journey together,
As time passes post.
From beginning to end
Love’s circle should be,
Never-the-loss losing
Love ever should see.
For what is the game
Where Love never stays,
Just trouble and travail
To the end of your days.

Copyright Evelyn J. Steward. June, 2015.

Slightly melancholy, I grant you. But then, many poems, and poets, have a sad turn of phrase. They find solace in this type of sadness. And, it has to be said, melancholy often brings forth true feelings, passion, emotion much more than happy times, at least, that is my opinion.

However, there are many who will say that they prefer light-hearted verse. And that is their prerogative. I like all kinds of verse and poems. It just all depends. A poem for me has to have a rhythm, not necessarily rhyming, but an internal rhythm the sets it apart from normal prose. And there are lyrical prose poems that work just as well. My point is though, that sadness creates its own lyricality ( if that is a word?) that takes the reader/listener to some place or time where they are lost in the emotive feeling poured into the poem by the poet.

One of my favourites is “The Lady of. Shallot”. It may not be everone’s ‘cup of tea’, but for me it has that emotive power to take me back in time (whether real or fictional) to the Lady, forced to weave in her tower, just watching the rest of the world go by, through a mirror. That in itself, is sad. She watches a handsome knight. Falls into courtly love which will never come to fruition. Her frustration forces her to leave the safety of the tower, throw caution to the wind, and drift down the river. When her punt is found, she has died, for Love. The knight never knows her ardour. Her gesture is meaningless, but for the reader/ listener, an immortal tale of blind love. The whole poem, though colourful in its descriptions, is full of sadness, anxiety, aloneness, so much that we are caught up in the tale.

Not a short poem. Neither is “The Ancient Mariner”, or “John Gilpin’s Ride”. There will be more can be named, but that is all for now. Of those two, The Ancient Mariner is again, a tale of woe. Misery loves company.

Mostly, my poems tend to be less than sad, though I have been known to go that route, oft times. It is how the mood takes me. For me, poems just ‘come’, or not. Often, I get caught in a particular rut of weather, seasons, etc. i do not like to be sad, but occasionlly, I delve, whatever catches me at that particular time.

If you like to write poetry, then keep at it. There are appreciation groups around. Poetry is not dead.

Everyone is out on a weekend. Do be safe. Have a good one, my friends.

Evelyn

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