A lover waits in vain for his love to meet him
'Are you here, are you here?' he shouted, into the empty night
with worried frown he peered around in the pale moon's light
And with crackling leaves and branches on the hard frost ground
'Neath his feet, he listened , to the night owls mournful sound
'Are you there, are you there?' he whispered; 'Please say you are - and yet
'Are you teasing, hiding, still playing hard to get?'
And his breath grew raw and ragged as the winter's wind did moan
And he stood there yearning, hoping - but still he was alone.
And far away in her chamber ,his pampered lover lay
She thought of him there waiting and then of yesterday
Of promises she gave to him and plans that they had made
Of thrilling days that they had spent in that forest glade.
But she was born to luxury and with his love she'd toyed
no scruples and uncaring, his hope she'd now destroyed
'You're not here, he whispered and never will you be
And now you'll never know my love what you have done to me.'
And so he left their meeting place and walked until the dawn
The river deep it beckoned him his reasoning was torn
He looked around and shouted loud 'I knew she'd not meet me
So now I won't be there for her and never more will be..
Hardly a ripple showed there on the river's deep dark sheen
Not a trace to show just where his last life's breaths had been
That is except the footprints ,there etched upon the snow
That started in the forest's glade with no-where else to go.
(c) Pamela M Brooke
Poetry by Pamel Brooke
Read 716 times
Written on 2009-01-20 at 00:32
Save as a bookmark (requires login)
Write a comment (requires login)
Send as email (requires login)
Print text
ARE YOU?
'Are you here, are you here?' he shouted, into the empty night
with worried frown he peered around in the pale moon's light
And with crackling leaves and branches on the hard frost ground
'Neath his feet, he listened , to the night owls mournful sound
'Are you there, are you there?' he whispered; 'Please say you are - and yet
'Are you teasing, hiding, still playing hard to get?'
And his breath grew raw and ragged as the winter's wind did moan
And he stood there yearning, hoping - but still he was alone.
And far away in her chamber ,his pampered lover lay
She thought of him there waiting and then of yesterday
Of promises she gave to him and plans that they had made
Of thrilling days that they had spent in that forest glade.
But she was born to luxury and with his love she'd toyed
no scruples and uncaring, his hope she'd now destroyed
'You're not here, he whispered and never will you be
And now you'll never know my love what you have done to me.'
And so he left their meeting place and walked until the dawn
The river deep it beckoned him his reasoning was torn
He looked around and shouted loud 'I knew she'd not meet me
So now I won't be there for her and never more will be..
Hardly a ripple showed there on the river's deep dark sheen
Not a trace to show just where his last life's breaths had been
That is except the footprints ,there etched upon the snow
That started in the forest's glade with no-where else to go.
(c) Pamela M Brooke
Poetry by Pamel Brooke
Read 716 times
Written on 2009-01-20 at 00:32
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text
