I ... entered the poem of life, whose purpose is ... simply to witness the beauties of the world,
to discover the many forms that love can take. (Barabara Blackman in 'Glass After Glass')

This blog is not, 'Here are my very best poems'. It's for work in progress, subject to revision.
Posts may be updated without notice at any time. Completed work appears in my books.

16 April 2009

Lament: Sweetest Love, I Go (April Challenge 15)

Prompt: take the title of a poem you like,
change it and write a new poem.
“Sweetest love,” wrote Donne,
“I do not go,
For weariness of thee,
Nor in hope the world can show
A fitter love for me;”

and I spoke that often
in silence in my heart
to a man I went from,
after I went,
believing it true.

That was twenty-seven years ago
and the world has shown me
loves that are surely fitter,
and in their own ways
no less sweet.

What sweetness could there be
loving a man in prison?
And it was not fit.
I was married
with young children.

And so I left.
Months later, so did he.
It was no “feigned death”.
I spent that night, though ignorant,
inexplicably in tears;

and through my mind
the words repeated:
“Sweetest love, I do not go,
for weariness of thee…”
Next day I learned.

Did he reach for me
in loving thought,
to tell me that his choice
had other reasons?
I believe he did.

And every love is fit
and every love is sweet.
That blinding smile,
that husky voice….
Donne’s “Song” is my Lament.

4 comments:

  1. what an interesting story. I want to re-read it when my brain is less distracted. first read tho, these lines strike particularly,"And every love is fit/and every love is sweet./That blinding smile,"

    oh, and I retweaked that Yeatesque poem at Pesbo again.

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  2. Ta!

    I'll enjoy having a new look at your Yeatsian poem.

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  3. I love this! I do like poems that tell stories...

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