Sunday, February 24, 2008

Renaissance


I long to see the hyacinth anon
imparting salutations breezily
and breathe the sweet cologne that wafts upon
invigorating gusts that easily
dispel the winter doldrums dragging on,
accumulating drifts inside of me.
I pull my collar up to warm my chin
in lieu of golden kisses on my skin.

As angles change, the chance to see protracts
but only if a pupil seeks the truth,
hallucinations often pose as facts
when altered by the heady state of youth
and even sully patronizing pacts
of those a little longer in the tooth
that hide behind their overweening grin
denial of the emptiness within.

We all require temperate climes to bloom
and solid clay to hold us tenderly
when certain days of unexpected gloom
precipitate their misty misery,
and if tomorrow brings my final doom
I’ll face the end with much felicity
unburdened by my mitigated sin,
as haunting hints of hyacinth begin.

9 comments:

Shirley said...

Bob,
Wow! This is beautiful...filled with the promise of Spring. As always your words hold a lot of wisdom painted with a brush of hope. That photo adds just the right touch!

Stacey said...

Hi Bob
I absolutely love this poem!!!!!

goatman said...

Misty misery is precipitating here as I type.
This poem fit my mood exactly. Seems as if the winters are getting longer
and the need for rebirth stronger as years pass. Well spoken feeling.

noahthegreat said...

Lovely in form and in words.

rch said...

It's much too flowery ;)

Shirley said...

Says who? :)

writerwoman said...

and if tomorrow brings my final doom
I’ll face the end with much felicity


That's my favorite part for its brave face. Love the photo you chose too.

rch said...

Hi Sara, thanks a lot, it matched my background.

janetleigh said...

The following are my favorite lines:

"I long to see the hyacinth anon
imparting salutations breezily
and breathe the sweet cologne that wafts upon
invigorating gusts that easily"

Masterful craftsmanship, indeed.