What lips my lips have kissed, and where, and why,
I have forgotten, and what arms have lain
Under my head till morning; but the rain
Is full of ghosts tonight, that tap and sigh
Upon the glass and listen for reply,
And in my heart there stirs a quiet pain
For unremembered lads that not again
Will turn to me at midnight with a cry.
Thus in winter stands the lonely tree,
Nor knows what birds have vanished one by one,
Yet knows its boughs more silent than before:
I cannot say what loves have come and gone,
I only know that summer sang in me
A little while, that in me sings no more.
Edna St. Vincent Millay
-I am ever sad and ever older
no one wants in
no one calls
the doorway is empty
no arms lift me up
no cheery voice calls my name
utters it like a prayer
no glimpses of heaven
no more dreams of joy
no more wishes of love
I am ever sad and ever broken
my heart slipped by and does not answer.
-Corby
Ms. Corby
ReplyDeleteSayest not thou, no one calls. T'is rashly made such outcry for here one is indeed engag'd in reading one's fine poetry. I bid you a grand day with birds on the wing singing tuneful melodies.
I remain, &c.
Colonel Brandon.
Your poem is beautiful yet sad.
ReplyDeleteTry to remember that this is only a part of your life now. It will eventually be replaced with joy.
Colonel Brandon,
ReplyDeleteAnd your lovely visit is certainly appreciated, so I write and write..
Jean,
I am trying to remember that!
-Corby