The Visit (A Poem by Maya Teague) |
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Sections - A Poets' Corner | |||
Written by Maya Teague | |||
Tuesday, 15 June 2010 07:19 | |||
THE VISIT Maya Teague It's Companion to these hushful hours Darkness poised to seduce, explore As zephyr upon newsprung flowers. Repose and rest now prospects dim, The guests are here, the stage replete Reflections wistful now turn grim As one by one, my ghosts I meet. Remembrances and thoughts go by, My life once more in film noir played Old scenes from distant days draw nigh Splinters of a past portrayed. Stark vignettes of a brittle life Days of gaiety, nights of lament A rebel, a dreamer, a dutiful wife Soon a widow racked with torment. I close my eyes, I hear the voice Of cherubim with harp and song, What glory this celestial noise But to whom does the music belong? The air is crisp, the night is deep Yet nary is there a tinge of fear, I kiss their souls, I pray, I weep Exalted by their presence here. I think I'll tarry 'til the morrow When light shall sweep this wraith away What rare rapture! What great sorrow To have been visited -- or did they? Maya Teague
May your trails be crooked, winding, lonesome, dangerous - leading to the most amazing view. May your mountains rise above the clouds.
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Last Updated on Tuesday, 15 June 2010 07:27 |
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