Green
For Gulnaz
He left on Wednesday
After kissing her sweetly
She didn’t see it coming
He never said goodbye
She stayed in the dark
He had never liked the sun
His small white face
Laying still on the pillow
Tubes kept it warm
But even to her
It was clear he’d gone
He sent her messages at first
Green had always been
Her favourite colour
He left them in her shoes
Green raffia
Delicate runes
Like the veins of an old man
She thought them leaves
Scattered by the wind
He sent her more
Cradled in the brown
Gnarled twigs of his tears
Peacock feathers moss
Emeralds forest floors
Whole galaxies of green
The size of daisies
She looked sadly in the mirror
And brushed them from her hair
Each night he called her
Drawing shadows on the lawn
Alone in the darkness
Leaving her gifts
The last said he was sorry
And that he couldn’t stay
He left on Wednesday
After kissing her sweetly
She didn’t see it coming
He never said goodbye
She stayed in the dark
He had never liked the sun
His small white face
Laying still on the pillow
Tubes kept it warm
But even to her
It was clear he’d gone
He sent her messages at first
Green had always been
Her favourite colour
He left them in her shoes
Green raffia
Delicate runes
Like the veins of an old man
She thought them leaves
Scattered by the wind
He sent her more
Cradled in the brown
Gnarled twigs of his tears
Peacock feathers moss
Emeralds forest floors
Whole galaxies of green
The size of daisies
She looked sadly in the mirror
And brushed them from her hair
Each night he called her
Drawing shadows on the lawn
Alone in the darkness
Leaving her gifts
The last said he was sorry
And that he couldn’t stay
posted by Sue hardy-Dawson at 8/21/2005 08:28:00 PM
16 Comments:
what a bittersweet poem written so delicately. lovely.
I had to read this a couple of times.
I appreciate the image the text invokes.
Hi Lorena, this came from a mixture of the inspration of Gulnaz's green poem and a discusion about how, if I was a ghost I might let loved ones know I was here. It was a tricky thought, we all share some unspoken thing that only those close would know but would we with our busy lives and our preconceptions of what we consider to be reality really listen or hear?
Hi Neon, some great pictures on your blog
She looked sadly in the mirror
And brushed them from her hair
The personal element of loss -- the missing things because you're missing something lost.
As always, you handle difficult stuff beautifully!
thank you so much Sue!!
this is an amazing poem! i agree with russell there you handle the most difficult of topics with great beauty! wonderful sue!
sad poem but nevertheless a good one. it's just so traggic.
and probably the departed one would say...
i wish so much you wouldn't cry
the way you did today
while thinking of the many things
we didn't get to say
Russel, I often find that the sad things in life are easyer to write about than the happy things. When I was younger I only ever wrote to exercise my sadness, having children in fact changed that. It's not that I'm a miserable person it's just that I find my unhappy moments are easyer to put on paper, whilst when I'm celebrating life I'm more confidently vocal
Thank-you Gulnaz it means so much to me that you are pleased with it
Amie that's lovely and so true, I always try to tell those people I love as often as I can, who knows what the future may hold. The good thing about writing down your thoughts is loved ones can always read them later and remember who you were and how much they meant to you.
Hia, glad to see youve been busy and people obviously enjoyed theri holls, sending all my love n best wishes for danny's big day - i'm sure he's done really really well.
I'm using matts work laptop on an evening but silly me didnt 'synchronise' my outlook express with my hotmail (whatever that is) so Ive lost most of my addresses, so you can email me and I'll get it, ta xxx
laura
Sweet poem written in very dlicate touch..I like the way you given the picture of how the man leaves traces of his soul existance to his wife..Love still continue even though we have departed
this is part of a poem written in Book called Within Myslef "The Will Power To Live Beyond cancer"
(You Are) poem title
.........................................................................................................
You are my soul
When I die, Im still living
United with you
A whisper across eternity
Laura lovely to hear from you, I will do that.
Nasra, what a lovely verse you posted who wrote it? I think the immage in my mind was of a child but I don't think it matters what you personally take from it.
Hi Phill, thank-you
Nice to meet you Laura, I'm glad you found my link too
Off to whitby for the weekend with my mum, so catch up with you all soon
Very delicate!
Hi there A than-you
Thanks for this, Sue. It brings me closer to Gulnaz--which is really the very best thing a poem can do. Illuminate the subject in a new way.
Thank-you Patry, how nice to find you here
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