Ilya Repin: Tempation of Christ
Created: 19th or early 20th century.
You gave me up.
By Wednesday I became ash,
A cold, grey snow of
Melting into nothing on the wind.
You took back your lent heart
And for forty days and forty nights
Retreated into the desert, deserting me,
For silent penance and prayer.
Pray for me
Your daily devotional.
You are my chosen one.
I am the worshipper at your temple
Or else I must be the devil
Who would, all things give to you,
If thou would only fall down and worship me.
Not just a treasury but a very precious little treasure too. Published in 1947, the poems may no longer be quite so modern but they are still certainly beautiful. Here is one I particularly liked …. ‘deep is the silence.’
| Moonlit Apples
At the top of the house the apples are laid in rows,
And the skylight lets the moonlight in, and those
Apples are deep-sea apples of green. There goes
A cloud on the moon in the autumn night.
A mouse in the wainscot scratches, and scratches, and then
There is no sound at the top of the house of men
Or mice; and the cloud is blown, and the moon again
Dapples the apples with deep-sea light.
They are lying in rows there, under the gloomy beams;
On the sagging floor; they gather the silver streams
Out of the moon, those moonlit apples of dreams,
And quiet is the steep stair under.
In the corridors under there is nothing but sleep.
And stiller than ever on orchard boughs they keep
Tryst with the moon, and deep is the silence, deep
On moon-washed apples of wonder.
It was a year ago today and I don’t think I can remember any day where I have woken up with such excitement to see someone. As days go, it was pretty perfect. There was you, me, a bit of Shakespeare and whole lot of night…
If I could take back all the misery I have caused for one more night like this I would because when I was with you, you only made me happy.
Are You Still There?
I do not dare to dream
Those burning green and fertile dreams
Of a life with you.
I cannot bare to dream
Of any life without you.
So I will dream nothing.
Anaesthetise all senses
Until I can sink into
Until you are mine.
These poems have all been chosen because there are some days that you just really miss someone.
Tu Me Manques
I Miss You
I miss your face
I miss your laugh
The way you sneeze
I miss your mouth
Your self harm cut
I miss your touch
I miss your veins
Your heart and its thud
I miss your song
I miss you,
My own special one.
Here I am.
A voice without words
Oh so silently.
The time was 7.29
I missed you
So I waited
Like a fool waiting for a lover
On the wrong platform.
And still I wait
For you to come
Like I often wait,
Wondering what went wrong
Along the line,
Where you are,
What I did,
Do you care?
I’m anxious, terrified
Of falling under the wheels,
As the seconds pass like minutes
That pass like hours
That stretch on like beige days
And before I know it, it’s 18.49
Another day spent waiting has come and gone
And before I know it it’s 18.49
You’ve passed on by,
I’ve missed you
Just the brittle eggshell crack
Of your own heart.
I am oddly pleased with the oh so ‘creative’ titles for today and yesterday’s poetic offerings. Hopefully the poems are marginally better…There was only going to be one poem for today but then I ended up writing two, as you do, and couldn’t decide which one I liked best…
I gave the most transparent hints all week:
This is what I need.
You gave them right back again:
This is not what I need.
Sometimes, the struggle isn’t only yours,
It’s mine too.
Sometimes, behind the smiles you see,
There are tears.
Sometimes, all I need is to know,
Is that you still love me.
Sometimes, perhaps I explain this all wrong;
Sometimes, I should probably just give up,
My broken heart
Was broken twice;
A fragile lake,
Made of ice.
Then it bled
Now it pours,
These tears of mine
Are yours and yours.