When We Were Shadows
Your shoulders now crowded
with love's golden harp-
no space for my heavy
heart to lie;
Symphony harnessed,
and a pas a deux
mesmerize you. I shall hum my
song of discord in silence,
never to disturb your ballad
to love's new joy.
I'll tend to my garden-
of evolving weeds,
I stand quiet and
listless at your side.
Gazing at a new passion
thriving within you.
Stoically, my friend-
I shall not throw my
tarnished sand
upon your bliss. Alone I will till
the soil of my dying garden
basking in the ethereal-
shimmer of your budding oasis.
Dead roses and live thorns-
adorn my desert. Faintly I hear
harp strings kidnapped
by the breeze. Before I lay burden to
ambrosial scents
of a dawning new love,
I shall toss myself
to my waiting thorns.
poem by Robin Bennett
Added by Poetry Lover
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