Please login or signup to add a comment to this paragraph.


Add comment   Close
Summer Breeze Summer Breeze
Recommendations: 19

Look Softly


Share this writing


Link to this writing



Start Writing

More from Summer Breeze

Reflection
Shuttering At The Thought
Dragon Dining
Lust
One Day

More Poetry

Deborah Boydston Deborah Boydston
Recommendations: 45
Murder in the Senseless
Leoni Carlson Leoni Carlson
Recommendations: 12
Expressivity
Aaron Greene Aaron Greene
Recommendations: 30
Author's Clog
Leonard a. Wronke Leonard a. Wronke
Recommendations: 23
JUST BECAUSE
Kitchera Hicks Kitchera Hicks
Recommendations: 11
soul mates

This one is more paranormal, I think, and is inspired by a painting I saw.


Old woman paused before her youth and stared in wondrous awe
years so heavy now upon her troubled not the girl she saw.
No lines marred lovely visage, nor burdens furrowed brow
just peaceful slumber resting there - concerns of here and now.


The years were kind still at this point, adventures not begun
so many hours left to delight, before the fading sun
did pile responsibility upon shoulders much too fair
and weight of all her choices came to rest so firmly there.


A book lay softly open now, on quilted coverlet;
she'd often only meant to pause - return after respit -
but thoughts had grown so grainy, like sand they'd stung her eyes
and she'd sunk into their desert, awoken to blue skies.


Such plans she'd made while dreaming! And some of them came true:
glorious love to fill her heart, a tiny babe or two
a home to call her very own, nice things and food to spare
how could she know it would not last, that life would turn unfair?


Regret stirred in her breast once more - two would have been five;
her first great sorrow was the children who did not survive.
The second came in mourning them: her heart turned to another;
her husband grieved in silence, so she'd looked to his brother.


Of course it ended soon enough when he moved far away -
a new commission in the East. She wondered to this day
if she'd gone with him what would her life ever have become?
No, best not to compare again, but for a long time she'd been numb.


Slowly separate bedrooms became one shared bed again
and lonely hearts found solace, then forgiveness - they remained.
The young ones grew and brought back joy, for what else could they do?
Miracles bear watching; their lives encompass you.


Eventually the house grew larger as each sought their own way;
her world narrowed while theirs widened - life come into play.
Grandchildren were not to be, but pleasure still remained:
there were some visits here and there, some happiness sustained.


But age can be of cruel design, sometimes more than expected
it robbed her spouse of his good health, which soon left him dejected.
The visits faded, along with all she ever had held dear.
A letter came: his brother had passed earlier that year.


She'd found herself in front of graves, one fresher than the other
wondering how she'd ever pay the bills threatening to smother
the tiny spark of strength she carried in her fragile breast.
Regret for wasted moments hit; she clutched in vain her chest.


Now standing here before past youth, she wished that she could say
Don't wait for all to fall apart, try harder every day
to keep what matters close to you. Don't let what counts be lost
for you'll regret it later on, you will pay the cost.


But of course she couldn't do that, she was only spirit now.
Her time on earth was over; this form did not allow
any way of warning the girl lying in the bed.
All she could do was look at her, knowing what lay ahead.


Pain would come no matter what, as well as joyous love -
children taken and some given, each a precious little dove.
Regret would do no good at all, nor anger, even fear
so she'd look upon girl softly, draw compassion near.


Link to this writing

Share this writing


Next: THINGS I MISS ABOUT YOU