A Monody

In spite of my pain,
Inexplicable sweet strands of soured mist twist
In the echelons of salt streams,
The fist of kings is lost in the parting waves,
And nymphs are cast up with brine and seaweed
And dismissed as fish by the useless sea.

The patter of rain on the window sifts sad songs
From the memories of widows
And glistens as the wind shifts listlessly in the trees
And the last light of the sun
Kisses their whispering leaves
While candles burn in the darkness by your grave.

Grief is gentle as a broken jewel
And my heart believes there is no history
Of tears or anger
In all these moonlit fields.

by John Thorkild Ellison

Comments (7)

'And the last light of the sun Kisses their whispering leaves'.... very sweet and lively lines... I love it........rgrds/salu
Sad beyond sadnees my friend
I liked the last stanza...........a there is no history of pain........good poem
A beautifully composed lament John. Wonderful use of alliteration and I love the way you have personified nature to echo the pain. Stunning - A 10 from me.Justine
Est pointed this out to me - very glad she did! Wonderful piece, full of feeling and super alliteration with the jarring stop to the smoothness at the word 'grave'. Didn't know what a monody was - thanks on such a beautiful example to demonstrate. 10+ -chuck
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