As cold black darkness deepens the unlit sky
fire idles, stilling, while a dream stumbles forth
to think the world no longer cast your spark.
In the junk shop of life
you crazy paved a path through life
no prismed rainbows colours remain
Stood at the cusp of morning
I walk on clouds, I write about love
– Poetry is sadness
Oh but the birds they would not hush
today as I walked – feeling alone
fantasies of you, real – full blown
Remember then no one’s seen eternity
everything is ephemeral
The way ahead, bowing on one knee, facing north
We all have endurance limits
– with these words of sad regret
peace wraps itself around me
Before the hours to be shouldered
– my resting place
I take it as a purpose of existence
Never lending ourselves to thinking that sadness is poetry
© Andrew Wilson, 2024
Written for Melissa Lemay in Uncategorized over at dVerse Poets Pub, but unfortunately, I missed the boat for Mr Linky and so I am posting it on OpenLinkNight hosted by Mish… Melissa’s challenge was to write a Cento poem made up from lines of other pub-goers in the month of April which I misread and chose lines from the May “Magic 9” – Es la Vida…
This Cento draws lines from fellow poets at dVerse Poets Pub – Punam, Sunra Rainz, Laura Bloomsbury, Kim M. Russel, Jane Dougherty, Gillena Cox, Mary Grace Guevara, Melissa Lemay, Helen, Robbie Eaton Cheadle, Judy Dykstra- Brown, Reena Saxena, Paul Vincent Canon