Array ( [sid] => 166665 [catid] => 1 [aid] => mick [title] => Darling Eyes of Amelia [time] => 2011-07-01 05:26:55 [hometext] => The story of a man who is still coming to terms with the loss of his beloved wife, yet whose daughter is so much her image.One of those writes that just comes out of nowhere.For anyone who has suffered in this way, this is for you. [bodytext] => Your face patterns over the September smile of an innocent child
Living and ghost breathe as one, chase the sun down the long lawn and into the trees
For these moments I remain at peace with my own solitude
Banish the dark and the demons that crawl through the mind and block the pores of rational thought

I am not yet transitioned, still in the wilderness of self pity
Wandering nomad whose eyes always look upon the desolation of Winter not the renewal of Spring
Facing and phased by uncertainty, drenched in the fountain of doubt
An empty voice screaming in the darkness, too lost to be heard

In the meadow where we once lay, watching shadows draw their darker shades
My eyes see nothing of the soft hues of sunwashed flowers, just the creeping plague of thistle
Wine once sipped under sturdy oak by the side of the lake
Lingers bitter on the palate, a slow seeping poison that glories in the resentment of loss

Your image still remains, in the clear blue darling eyes of Amelia
A smile that cools the ravaged heart, sweet balletic angel who dances by the fireside
As we lay each year on your sacred ground a single deep red rose
She takes my hand and softly says, "Please daddy, do not cry" [comments] => 3 [counter] => 325 [topic] => 22 [informant] => puppy_dog_eyes [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => LostLove ) Your Poetry Dot Com - Darling Eyes of Amelia


Darling Eyes of Amelia
Date: Friday, 1st July 2011 @ 05:26:55 AM AEST
Topic: Sad Poetry

Contributed By: puppy_dog_eyes
Your face patterns over the September smile of an innocent child
Living and ghost breathe as one, chase the sun down the long lawn and into the trees
For these moments I remain at peace with my own solitude
Banish the dark and the demons that crawl through the mind and block the pores of rational thought

I am not yet transitioned, still in the wilderness of self pity
Wandering nomad whose eyes always look upon the desolation of Winter not the renewal of Spring
Facing and phased by uncertainty, drenched in the fountain of doubt
An empty voice screaming in the darkness, too lost to be heard

In the meadow where we once lay, watching shadows draw their darker shades
My eyes see nothing of the soft hues of sunwashed flowers, just the creeping plague of thistle
Wine once sipped under sturdy oak by the side of the lake
Lingers bitter on the palate, a slow seeping poison that glories in the resentment of loss

Your image still remains, in the clear blue darling eyes of Amelia
A smile that cools the ravaged heart, sweet balletic angel who dances by the fireside
As we lay each year on your sacred ground a single deep red rose
She takes my hand and softly says, "Please daddy, do not cry"

This poem is Copyright © puppy_dog_eyes


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