When you and I were summer, and the sky
was greyer than the green that grew between
my linden and your oaken strength, serene,
eternal as the shadows passing by.
You whispered me a question; my reply
was lost upon the winds of might-have-been
for change must come to every tranquil scene
and gifts from gods are not what they imply
Forever is a dream lost to the dawn
and temples fall to dust beneath the years
as roses split the stones and oceans dry;
yet boughs will bend and brave the tearing thorn
to claim the scars as treasured souvenirs,
and laugh until the summer, you and I.
my tree is one with a large heart..yours with a heart of stone...but standing side by side, the rose of love finally weakens you to bend toward me...
and now after love has struck us like lightning and we have the scars to prove it...we will move on towards the summer, laughing you and i...
scars come with the territory, so does pain...love isn't all roses and good times..
i find this works with the juxtaposition of the rose breaking up the stone....the gentle flower wearing down the rock...winning the heart, making it bend...
you work contradictions into your pieces so nicely.
for me the rose works, because it comes as a surprise...something so strong as an oak can be felled...by something so soft and gentle as a rose...but watch out for the thorns...stronger than you might think, and more dangerous.
Edna Saint Vincent Millay,
that's what the second line of this little passage reminded me of. and it's in how it en jambs with the thought/rhythm above it.
my linden and your oaken strength, serene,
eternal as the shadows passing by.
she, on occasion, could weave that 14 lines.
here, i think, i feel, you manage it in just those two.
this may come down to a matter of taste etc, eg guys like football, girls like girl stuff, but i feel the poem is entrenched in metaphor/genre.
but, what is a poem? (and here's the point of no return, where everyone thinks I'm a wanker.)
a poem, i think, is a feeling given form, the giving of form to a feeling. it is a delicate thing.
here is think the poem is overdressed and we lose touch with the human feeling, the man and the woman.
why should i fasten on just that one rhythm, in fourteen lines... because that rhythm has left them undressed.
why does the poem exist? what does it want to say?
I agree, but wonder at the need to draw into the scene something as incongruous as roses splitting stones. The whole poem is about gentle love, -- why the need for her to use the rose of her love to split the ----- stony heart or indifference of the male? Well, that's my 2 cents worth, but I love it all, Ted.
Thank you Ted. Ages would work, I agree, but the rose motif is an important one for a few reasons, primarily because the rose is a seemingly innocuous symbol of romance -- who could possibly think a little flower could be capable of breaking stone?
I appreciate you stopping by, and am glad you liked the sonnet.
This is one very beautiful poem. Nice regular 5ft line lengths, pleasantly rhymed. I really loved reading and appreciating this work, but I think the last stanza could be improved, please permit me to suggest : -
Forever is a dream lost to the dawn
and temples fall to dust beneath the years
while ages split the stones, and oceans dry;
yet boughs will bend and brave the tearing storm
to claim the scars as treasured souvenirs,
and laugh until the summer, you and I.
For me, it is the most satisfying poem I've read in a long time. Ted.
Submission Name: Metamorphoses
