adventures in dysthymia

Wednesday, June 18, 2008

ONCE

Once, I fell in love
and, falling, broke my heart;
each time I think it mended,
it once more comes apart.
Need it be bound and bandaged
till it no longer feels;
allowed to sleep a season,
lest it never heals?

Once, I was in love
and. loving, spoke my heart;
left it undefended,
a target for each dart.
Such wounds I'll bear gladly;
they speak not of defeat,
for hearts can not be hidden
without their loss complete.

Once, I fell in love
and, falling, broke my heart.
In time, it may be mended;
then, perhaps, I'll start
to fear not once more falling,
to trust again my wings,
and, guarding not my heart,
to hope for all love brings

Stephen Brooke ©2008

Steve goes somewhat traditional -- I labored over this one quite a bit and I'm sure it could take further revision and polishing. Lots of revision and polishing...

In my typical creative approach, I started from words rather than ideas here. I hardly ever have a 'plan' as to what I intend to say but let the words grow into a concept. This is as true with songs as with poems and, I suppose, prose as well.

Post a Comment