Seems the time has fled like rain
My dear friend vanished too,
Vanished to the gossamer
Just dissipated through…..
One day here, gone the next
No words allaying cost,
Dismissal to the mists of time
Intangibly, just lost.
Your final poem posted
Instilling vibrant air
Of remorseless, sharp reminder
Of a vacuum hanging there.
A suspension of all feeling,
Of warmth and care and touch
The absence of your sunlit mirth
And laughter, loved so much.
A sadness hangs in silent throng
And saddened voices sing
In wreaths of trite redemption
Which angry tears do bring.
But should you have a change of heart
One early, misty morn
To once again put pen to prose
To once again, adorn.....
Replete, shall be this simple soul,
Replete again to dwell,
To once once again devour your words
Forsaking forlorn Hell.
M.
Foxglove, Taranaki NZ
2 November 2021
A plea to those wondrous women
Who have chosen to depart the arena
For reasons of their own,
Be they fair or foul.
Consider the consternation and despair
Caused, imposed,
In the departure, the creative void,
Manifest in the dearth of continuance
Of your utter, poetic magnificence?
You are the very heart of our art.
Please, in the mist of morn,
Deem to return?