Another Jilly poem. A rhymer this time, inspired by the line:
“Such fragile wings”
~ Jim Harrison from Songs of Unreason
The firmness of your grip I thought was love,
The light in your deep eyes, a burning fire,
Together we would race the clouds above,
I never dreamed we’d flounder in the mire.
The songs I made could never reach my tongue,
Bright moonlit castles, daydreams fell apart,
I gathered roses, in the mud you flung
Their sweetness, nothing I made touched your heart.
You held me down when I reached for the sky,
I never touched the place where blackbird sings,
Against the blue, a slender perch on high—
You never thought I had such fragile wings.
* sigh
🙂
🦋
Ahhh!
We never thought, not a one of us
that we’d ever get life so wrong.
But we can clear it up move along
And learn the words of the
black bird’s
Song
So thrue, Ellen 🙂 Mustn’t lose sight of that.
😇
This poem has real cadence and poignancy.
Thank you 🙂
Mire and Mud really set the tone. The rhyme scheme is gentle and gives the whole poem a regret-filled meter. That last line is so strong! Bravo, Jane!
Thanks Jilly! I’m in metre mode at present, and sometimes rhyme too 🙂
Yep – that happens to me, too. There are these poetic moods that show up and demand occupancy.
Wonder what it will be today?
Simply gorgeous!
Thanks, Charley 🙂