Hand in Hand
by
Roger Crique
(Age: 51)
copyright 12-11-2005
Age Rating: 10 to 127
The crackle of the fire brings me closer to days of love
The frothy mocha warms my whole existence
My mind wanders into the mesmerizing flames,
as I reminisce, in this solemn wintry day
The sun is impotent to warm me
for only this hearth I sit next to fuels my tears,
tears that well and blur my visions of tomorrow
My window is shut tightly,
sealed by sparkling icicles
Tonight, the hour will approach
I will join you in your state
for you chose the day and the hour,
condemning your soul to purgatory.
I will join you tonight!
Hand in hand, our souls will meet
We shall traverse together,
the darkened grottoes of the land of fire.
I will see you again,
in splendor or in doom
I will join you forever
For we said our vows,
vows that I promised not to break
Promises that I'm surely to keep!
Help Us Stop Plagiarism -
Nearly all works at PnP are original. However a few people choose to plagiarize.
To check, choose a phrase from the work, then either drag and drop to the search box or copy and paste.
click on search and works at Google will be shown which match. Just to be sure, please do this before
you recommend or rate the work highly...
Promises made in passion are hard to keep sometimes and this one sounds like doom. The fire is hot and I hope the heat keeps you from stepping in too far. This was very poetic, Anthony
As always, Roger, I love the way your poetry sounds to my ear, but please remember, I am a simple man, and your words often confuse me. This poem started out like a nice reminice around a fireplace on a cold winter night, then, to my ear, became something dark and final
Maybe a lost love? - I don't know, but it will certainly get me to reading it over a few times.
Roger,
I like the use of your description of the environment and how it blends and complements the feelings of the person in the poem. (I think their is a literary term for this device, but I can't think of it right now; maybe "apostrophe" or "personalization.") I also like the mystery of what happens in the next-to-last stanza-- guessing at what this person has decided to do, or not do.
More critically, I wonder if the syntax and language is a bit hyperbolic. I recognize this-- accurately or not-- only since I sense it in my own poetry a lot, as if I have to force the work to be more dramatic than it needs to be.
Overall, though, a well-written and heartfelt piece.
Welcome !
