I'll See You in My Dreams
When trees darken against the sky,
she sometimes drifts through a chink
in my dream wall,
as if she had never slipped away.
The memory ogre that nibbled away
at her life – and mine - has vanished.
She appears ageless, salt and pepper curls
flicked back from slender forehead.
I’m caressed by the lilt of her Welsh
timbre, that transports me back to childhood,
when we played eyelash butterflies
and she sang Calon Lan to soothe me.
Awake, melancholy ripples over me, for she
has slithered back through the brickwork
again. Yet her aura lingers through the day
calming storms that drench me.
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Line1 was When trees blacken
L9/10 was Welsh twang
Eira - Very beautiful - I especially like the last two stanzas and the ending is very fine:
Yet her aura lingers through the day
calming storms that drench me.
Well done - Richard
Hi Eira;
yes those early memories live on; one just can't seem to dodge them. I wouldn't know what to suggest to improve your write--possibly, when trees darken the skyline, instead "when trees blacken . . . " 'Blacken" seems a bit too completely black. Nicely done. Ali
Just discovered a sweet English translation of Calon La. I'm a sucker for traditional verses and music.
A Pure Heart
I Don't Ask For A Luxurious Life
The World's Gold Or It's Fine Pearls
I Ask For A Happy Heart
An Honest Heart A Pure Heart
A Pure Heart Full Of Goodness
Is Fairer Than The Pretty Lily
None But A Pure Heart Can Sing
Sing In The Day And Sing In The Night
If I Wished For Worldly Wealth
It Would Swiftly Go To Seed
The Riches Of A Virtuous Pure Heart
Will Bear Eternal Profit
Evening And Morning My Wish
Rising To Heaven On The Wing Of Song
For God For The Sake Of My Saviour
To Give Me A Pure Heart
Very descriptive and well recalled dedication to someone fondly remembered, calming storms that drench me.
Absolutely beautiful. The imagery and flow are perfect
Love chink in dream wall. This establishes the basis of the poem - weaving a dream
Hi Eira,
Dropped in for a few minutes and saw this lovely, nostalgic poem of yours. It really strikes me in several ways, reminding me of losses of loved ones.
Nothing to critique at all, except perhaps the word "twang". Just me, I'm sure, but it sounds out of place in your poem. Maybe "accent", "timbre", "tone", "intonation".
Just saying, take or toss!
Hugs, Syl***
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