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')

These poems are works in progress and may be updated without notice. Nevertheless copyright applies to all writings here and all photos (which are either my own or used with permission). Thank you for your comments. I read and appreciate them all, and reply here to specific points that seem to need it — or as I have the leisure. Otherwise I reciprocate by reading and commenting on your blog posts as much as possible.

2 April 2013

Occupation: Poet


... exercised in the still night 
when only the moon rages ...
— DylanThomas

I've spent my life this way —
sitting up late at night on my own 
with the moon and the darkness, 
making poems

through school and university,
marriages, children, pets, 
friendships, jobs, travels,
in sickness and in health ...

Now that I'm old and alone
contemplating what's to come,
I see it will be the same.
Why would it change?

Half-dozing at my computer,
envisioning solitary nights
up late for the rest of my life, 
absorbed in the making of poems,

I hear the voice of my late, dearest love
call as from a long way off 
his eternal encouragement: 'Yes!' 
and I become light.

Poetic Asides April Poem A Day Challenge 2013, 2: 
a dark or a light poem, or one of each. This is both in one.

Also submitted for dVerse Open Link Night #90

24 comments:

  1. "absorbed in the making of poems" lovely write!

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  2. So lovely, peaceful, a little melancholy... Beautifully written, Rosemary!

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  3. Thank you, my friends. This realisation is what gave rise to my comment on facebook (for those who saw it) that I have been doing this since I was seven, yet people continue to ask, 'Are you still writing poetry?'

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  4. Oh so touching Rosemary. I think we can all relate to this one!

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  5. I can feel the need to create in the middle of the night when rest just won't settle in..

    up late for the rest of my life,
    absorbed in the making of poems,

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  6. smiles....i am glad he still encourages you, you know...i could think worse things you could be staying up doing...smiles...just saying...

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  7. Rosemary, I am glad you are up late writing poetry. That is what poets do; and you have been a poet for decades and will always be one. A passion is a passion. So enjoy! And know he is smiling as well.

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  8. A touch of melancholy beautifully filtered with light! So lovely!

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  9. Wistful, a touch sad, but you wouldn't change the vocation at all, would you? A lovely poem which speaks to all of us absorbed in the making of poems.

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    1. Very true. I would never want to change it!

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  10. Whoooosh -- transporting and beautiful. Fantastic insight and lovely sharing.
    Thanx

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  11. "Up for the rest of my life"...making poetry. Sigh.

    Yes!

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  12. Yes, this is something I know other poets can relate to very well. We may do it alone - but here we find a whole family of poets!

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  13. Dark and light and spanning a lifetime. Our common ground is vast and fertile. I am so grateful for my association with you and your talent.

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    1. Thank you, Kim! I am grateful for the online poetic communities which bring us all in touch with each other.

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  14. ..it's me, too, up most of the night, drifting off at times in front of the laptop; so now I can explain to my doctor just why I'm turned around and she will understand if she reads this..thanks for sharing ;)

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    1. Ha ha, I'm tickled by the idea of you presenting this to your doctor by way of explanation!

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  15. Oh Rosemary, this is so beautiful, feeling your beloved encouraging you from his place in your heart. I write myself to sleep many nights too... and awake in the morning, I prefer that... but the words arise when they do.

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    1. After decades of family living, I've become used to late night as the quiet, uninterrupted stretch of time for listening to the Muse. But yes, the words may come at any time.

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  16. those first four lines are just so moving...I got inside a tiny bit of your feelings .

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