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  1. backstreetdreamer Guest

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    Sometimes at the dying of the day,
    I sit and watch the last
    written lines
    of evening,
    when purple ink
    runs down
    a page of shadows,
    and I regret
    not having written
    it myself.


    Sometimes at the parting of the way,
    I stand and watch the last
    regretful glimpse
    of yesterday,
    when dry brown leaves
    blow through
    my autumnal heart,
    and I regret
    not having acted
    in a different play.


    Sometimes in the meadow where we lay,
    I heard the final echoes
    of your goodbye
    fading away,
    vanishing whispers
    held me
    one last time,
    and I regret
    that there was nothing
    I could say...

  2. Lurking

    MsJacquiiC Poetica Magnifique

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    Hey BACKSTREETDREAMER - I like this poem very much! The flow is right on time. The meaning and poignant to the point of almost-tears. Yeah I'm sure many can relate to the last "goodbye"

    This poem brought back memories that I'd rather just let lie... Such is the strength of your words:

    one last time,
    and I regret
    that there was nothing
    I could say...


    Very nice piece of writing - but then I could just read the 1st stanza again and smile at the beauty of it. Sometimes I think it's a curse to be able to see the sunset as you've described. I'm sure a lot of painters (even poets lol) would like to paint such mystical beauty as the silver-lined, the purple cloud and the crimson gleam of his eye...

    At anyrate - nice piece - Thanx for sharing it with us and Welcome again to the JPiC Community :)

    Jacquii.


    Posted By MsJacquiiC | Oct 20, 2006
    #2

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