thoughts of Saoirse
a little free verse
I have no words
to express the happiness
you brought to me
in quiet moments
in a wooded glade
dappled by sunlight
threading oaky leaves
remembering, remembering,
those pleasant days
we thought could never end
but ended anyway
a cluster of butterflies
stitching the air
pauses its tapestry,
motionless, freezing
an endless instant
then resumes
I lie contented,
wondering if one was you.
and the rest, perhaps,
angelic friends?
a songbird
from exalting on a branch
glides across the sky
you used to flow into a room
weaving smoothly through the throng
unnoticed by any but me
yours was a quiet serenity.
I stand
dropping pebbles in ‘our’ canal
gazing at reflections
in the wavelets
the stones are making
are you here beside me?
or behind, me?
a Lazarus houseboat
rising from the lock
passes unhurried
swans at swim
its weekend captain
sporty in a captain’s cap
waves, salutes, calls,
‘lovely day we’re having!’
I nod, ‘hello’
I wish it was you –
it isn’t you
Saoirse,
dear tender darling,
for all the joys
you brought to me
I have no words,
no words,
but these.
© coolhermit 2021
Views: 661
Ooh, that’s lovely, really lovely. Brought tears to my eyes when I read the last few lines. sue. X
Thanks, Sue – the words flowed really easily. Sometimes it’s a struggle, other times they just flood out 🙂
Amazed by the tender feel to the whole poem, gentle love flowing through. Each stanza penned exquisitely, especially ” You used to flow into a room…” Yearning for Saorise, seeing her in all that the eyes saw and each time hoping it was her! Agree with Sweetwater, left with moist eyes. Thanks for the heartfelt share, Coolhermit.
Warm Regards, Gomathi.
Thanks, Gomathi, I wake up early – around 3 or 4 am and every so often lovely words come to me. 🙂
Such tender loving words can only be spoken from the heart.
Very much enjoyed reading.
Featheredwing.
I have to join in with my praise here. It is a very tender and moving piece. Both picturesque and poignant. I found myself looking for Saoirse at the end here as well. A read much enjoyed on this crisp November morning.
(p.s. I don’t know if her name was really Saoirse – Freedom in Gaelic, but real or not, I found it made the poem even more interesting. I used to have a dog named Saoirse)
blessings,
jolen
I have an earlier work here called (according to my docs) ‘Chatting with Saoirse’ – a similar piece 🙂 Thanks for your kind comment.