I would like to Nominate Sylvias
Love's Dues for the IBPC. To me it is poignent, it rings a resonance in my soul, has an enternal rythm and song. Every time I read it, another part reaches out and pulls me in.
LOVE’S DUES by Sylvia MaclaganHe left yesterday. Images of fallow roads
puncture solitude, then fade. The sun erodes
my thoughts like a dry sponge. They grow dim -
love’s tendrils wind their way around my heart
to build on solid ground a world apart
that may, by gentle force, go on and round him.
The sky is not my friend today; it casts a garish spell
on dales and dreams. It counterpoises Camelot.
O give my life a joyous plot!
I’m heartbroken, quite unwell,
denizen prisoner of inner space
where only elves dare tread and trim with lace
my memory of him; a rejected pawn
with bunker-shaped dome, afraid of dawn.
Weary nomad by my love accursed,
quarrying sadness and thirst
in uninhabited plateaus.
My life dissolves in threads...
Deities! Seers! Read the riddle of subterranean
fears, my eggshell life. Players in this game
deserve three lives, and I, poltroon,
dare not pursue the sentimental lane
with one puny chance of earthly gain.
To fall in line might take a thousand years
burrowing through love’s harsh confines-
Is it I who writes these lines?
Yet shining softly on my bed, mock moon,
a gray, autumnal calm spreads down my spine,
has stilled the pain, my oaths may undermine.
Aphrodite should have sung last rites
to my deadly wounds -- my heart’s plight.© Sylvia Maclagan, Buenos Aires, Argentina, 2008.
This post has been edited by Cleo_Serapis: Dec 30 08, 08:59
Reason for edit: Revised version posted